I Am Game
by liverpuddle
Summary: Quinn gets a taste of what Rachel has been dealing with for years. Since Quinn has started growing as a person since she joined the Gleeks, empathy and bonding ensues.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish.

**A/N: **_First Glee fic here. Not so good at Rachel's voice, so starting mostly with Quinn's point of view. Why I feel I can get inside a pregnant teen's head, rather than a rambling perfectionist diva's is beyond me. Constructive crit on tense much appreciated, as it's unbeta'd. Title cribbed from Lisa Hannigan song I Don't Know, which in true ishuffle fashion, inspired this. Along with Peter Gabriel song, which will come up in last chapter…_

Quinn is lost in thought as she observes Rachel Berry move with her usual purposeful stride down the halls of McKinley High. Her determined chin up, books crossed over her chest. Her chemistry book probably offered a modicum of protection from the inevitable slushie attacks. Berry somehow always seemed to go on about her day with that damned Streisand "I'm a comer" attitude.

Quinn shakes her head, letting slip a rueful half smile. She had to give the fashion-challenged diva credit. She doesn't understand how other girl just shrugs off the barrage of abuse, like water off a platypus' back. And then just carries on, never crumbling like her tormentors (herself once included) want. She supposes that annoying self-belief was just an incredibly irritating, but necessary, tool for survival.

She continues watching as the singer prudently sticks close to the wall, skimming the lockers when possible, trying to present a more difficult target she supposed. It was an ever so subtle nod to self-preservation, and Quinn silently approved. It was, however, completely against Berry's 'Look at me!' nature. And it was usually doomed to failure, as Quinn had noticed that at least once a week, Berry was late to Chemistry, the class they shared next period. Her big puppy dog eyes always a little too bright, matching the equally over-bright smile on her face when she appeared on those days.

"Q! What the hell? Earth to Juno?"

Startled from her thoughts, she blinks at Santana who has just slammed her locker shut, jolting her back to her surroundings. She didn't realize she'd been staring, and now for some reason she felt like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. She instinctively goes into The Best Defense is a Good Offense Mode. She'd been living that motto her whole life and it kicked in naturally.

"Jesus S! You scared the hell out of me! What the hell?" Quinn throws back to the Cheerio.

Brittany and Santana were both looking at her quizzically, brows furrowed a little with concern.

"You were just staring down the hall at RuPaul. What up with that?"

Santana's narrowed eyes and glare were disconcerting as she continued.

"For all we knew you were about to stroke out right here, Q. Can't Preggos have like blood pressure issues or some shit like that? I don't need you dropping dead at my feet here…"

Santana punctuated her comment with a raised eyebrow. Brittany just bobbed her head, which caused her pony-tail to bob along in time.

Quinn rolled her eyes, annoyed at the Preggo jibe, but secretly feeling better for having hopefully deflected further scrutiny. She had enough scrutiny in her life.

"Give a pregnant teen a friggin' break, guys, I'm just tired. I know I make this look effortless and all...but having your ex-boyfriend's ex-best friend's baby is exhausting. I don't recommend it."

She spoke flippantly, but it was way too damn close to the truth. She was beyond exhausted. Sleeping on Puck's couch was not much better than Finn's house had been. The tension was less palpable than at Finn's house. But her already depleted psyche was drained further with every tired and disappointed glance she couldn't help but catch from Puck's mother. Elena Puckerman was a nice enough woman. And Quinn didn't blame her. The woman didn't sign up for a Christian, ex- Chastity Club President live-in-obligation for her son. Quinn didn't sense the judgment she knew her parents harbored, but she felt the underlying disappointment like the too-heavy blanket she used on the couch. Not Christian enough for her parents, and too Christian for Mrs. Puckerman.

"Whatever Q. Maybe you need more vitamins, or a V-8. Look into it. Seriously Q."

Having delivered her directive, Santana gave Quinn another penetrating look before turning on her heel to leave.

"Come on B, let's get to History. You like History."

Brittany agreed. "Mr. Croft has a wonderful quiet voice. Like a lullaby…"

The blone cheerleader smiled her sweet smile, waved and off the two went, shoulder to shoulder.

Quinn let a string of decidedly un-Christian curses fly under her breath when she realized her books were still in her locker when Santana had slammed the damn thing. Sighing, she reopened her locker and retrieved the Chem book and her notes.

Raucous laughter and cat calls approaching down the hall alerted Quinn that the jocks were on the move. She hoped that Berry had made it someplace safe for once, maybe already in the Chemistry class they shared 4th period. She turned her head to see if she could spot the annoying diminutive brunette. Not spotting her, she stayed at her locker, waiting for the jocks to pass, knowing there really was nothing she could do to stop an attack on Berry or any of the Gleeks now. Once, when she was still HBIC, she could have. But of course back then, she herself would have been the one ordering or participating in the dreaded slushie attacks.

Ah, the irony. She didn't really 'get' Berry, and her high intensity personality, and her heinous fashion sense, and her often manic cheerfulness. And she certainly didn't admire her as a person. But she supposed she did admire certain traits or qualities she possessed. And it was no longer her mission in life to torture the overly intense singer. These days, she felt some version of a familial bond with her - and all the Gleeks - now. And in the family 'code', it meant that it was okay for HER to do a little picking on Rachel Manhands RuPaul Stubbles Berry, like an annoying sibling. But woe betide anyone outside the family. Well, figuratively that was. Unfortunately, here in the harsh reality of high school, Quinn was painfully aware that currently she had little or no power to bring to bear against any tormenters of the Gleeks. She'd fallen way, way too far down the social hierarchy to do anyone any good.

All the 'power' that Quinn had these days was of the 'softer side of Sears' or After School Special variety. Seeing what was going on with Mercedes and the pressure to conform to Sue Sylvester idea of beauty or self-worth, she told Mercedes she is beautiful the way she is. What did it cost her? Nothing. And it had made Mercedes feel good. And it was a surprisingly nice feeling, that pulling someone up, rather than kicking them down for a change.

If someone had done that for her, maybe, just maybe a few wine coolers and superficial compliment from a guy who referred to himself as Puckasaurus wouldn't have gotten her into this predicament. She was no certainly no altruistic White Knight or..whatever, for anyone. But these days, if she could offer a simple compliment that cost her _nothing_ to give, but would perhaps prevent someone from feeling so ugly that three kiwi wine coolers and a compliment from some asshole would had them giving it up just to feel pretty for a moment…well, she could do that.

She mentally sighed. Mr. Schue had given her confidence a much needed boost after the "Glist" drama unfolded, but she still had leagues to go to claw her way back to the top of the social heap. If that is where she wanted to go. These days, she just took it one day at a time.

Breaking herself from her musings yet again, she turned to head to class, wondering why her mind was ADHD these days.

Then she was abruptly wondering why her entire world had erupted in red.

Cold red. She could taste and smell the sickly sweet of fake cherry red. Then she could feel hot red rage pounding through her veins, right out to her fingertips. Even though her eyes were shut in reflex, her mind's eye filled with the red of McKinly High School letter jackets. Karofsky. Karofsky and his posse of idiots.

If the roar of a freight train sounded red, then she was hearing red too. Above the roar in her head, she definitely heard moronic guffaws coming out of Karofsky's pie-hole.

"Oh no…my bad Quinn, that was for a Gleek Freak …oh, that's riiight… you ARE a Gleek loser now…so I didn't waste my money not waiting for Berry."

Livid, and in a blood rage, Quinn still kept her cool demeanor as best as circumstances allowed.

"Yeah, Karofsky? Premature-slushie attack. I've heard you have a problem in the premature release department. Now, get the hell out of my way, jackass."

She pushed past that the cretin, hearing his cohorts sound off to him, taking the opportunity to laugh at him, giving her a small amount of consolation. They would turn and feed on anyone's humiliation, as long as it wasn't their own. She knew. She'd done it herself often enough.

Heading blindly towards the nearest bathroom, she was only barely holding back the tears of anger and humiliation. She shook her hair, spraying anyone near her with the sweet red concoction that was trickling down her chest and her scalp. It was a very clear "Back the fuck off" signal to everyone around.

Like anyone would even think of coming to her aid right now. She half-grinned a little maniacally to herself, sucking some slushie off her bottom lip, telling herself "Get a grip Fabray". Sure, she'd like to think Santana would have kicked Karofsky's ass in her defense just now, but Santana wasn't here. "You're on your own, kiddo," she admitted. "What else is new?"

She could hear still hear the laughter and the variations on "Snap! Bro! She called you out" coming from small crowd that remained. The last thing she heard before she ducked into the bathroom was the *thunk* of someone being shoved into the lockers, presumably Karofsky targeting one of his smaller hanger's on.

She let loose loud shuddering breaths at the sink as she tried to let the worst of it drip into the none-too-clean porcelain. Tears still were not an option or a luxury she would allow herself. She'd done this to herself. She probably deserved it. Just not from that neanderthal Karofsky. She turned on the faucet, and gripped the both edges of the basin, waiting for the water to warm up. She took another ragged breath, and cursed the tears that were forming as she stood there shaking with impotent rage. And self-pity. And loneliness, and betrayal. It all kept coming. She tried to shut down her mind and get control of herself, still taking deep rattling breaths.

She looked up at herself in the mirror, taking in the sight. Pathetic.

Then a movement in the mirror caught her eye, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Rachel Berry (of course it's Berry, this is my life now, who else would it be) was in an open stall, with her patented 'worried' look on her face. Of course she was there. What would this perfect moment be without Rachel Fucking Berry to bear witness to her humiliation? Huzzah, but Life is grand these days. She didn't hate the girl, especially now with Finn not even in the picture for either of them. But she sure as hell didn't relish the thought of Berry, of all people, seeing her brought this low.

"Jesus Christ Berry! Stalk much? What the hell? You scared the shit out of me. How long have you been there?"

The brunette looked like a deer caught in headlights at first. She spoke slowly like she was talking to lunatic, and headed towards the bathroom entrance as she talked.

"Uh..uh, I was here already Quinn. I'm sorry…I can go."

She then stopped, her face thoughtful, and a maybe little bit hopeful. That made Quinn a little wary.

"Or…well, I have an extra shirt, and a towel in my locker. As you well know, I often have to deal with these unpleasant slushie attacks, and I believe in being prepared, and..I..I could go…get them..for…you..?"

Quinn sighed, wiping more red (and tears that had gone unnoticed she hoped) from her face.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure Berry, thanks. That would be great…thanks."

Rachel smiled at her, and backed out of the bathroom.

Quinn stood over the sink, still dripping the red stickiness in rivulets, but trying to keep it from running down her torso anymore than it had, using the practically useless brown paper towels to scrub it off where she could.

Rachel scurried out of the bathroom and returned quickly with the proffered items. She still looked extremely skittish.

Quinn was no longer about to cry, but she still didn't trust her voice quite yet, so she whispered.

"God Berry, how do you do this day after day?"

There was pause, and then a deep breath. Oh no, Berry was going to soliloquize.

"Well, I find the best method is to…stem the flow, and then start with the hair…"

Rachel trailed off, surprising Quinn with the brevity of her statement. She stayed still over the sink, while the other girl moved to grab wet some paper towels, and started to try to dab at Quinn's clothing. Quinn stopped her, sighing, with more exhaustion and less venom than usual in her voice.

"I got this Berry."

The smaller girl relinquished the damp towels, looking helpless.

"Perhaps, if you'd like I could at least help you rinse your hair now? It will be much more efficient if you let me help with that. Then you won't have to miss so much of our Chemistry class…"

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, her hands gripping the sink tightly.

"I *said* I've got it, Berry. Like hell I'm going to class after this. Go on, you can make it without missing anything. I wouldn't want to ruin your attendance record."

Rachel let the sting in Quinn's voice roll over her without comment, and Quinn continued swiping at the remnants of slushie. Still, Berry didn't say anything, but she could hear the indecisive shuffling of her feet behind her. Then the sharp click of her shoes. The next thing she knew, there was a gentle pressure on the back of her head.

"Quinn, we're teammates. I can't abandon you now. What kind of teammate would I be then? Now. Bend over so I can get your hair rinsed more efficiently. I strongly suggest you close your eyes. The red stings less than the lime, but it still stings."

Humiliation, annoyance and gratitude were all clamoring inside her. But Quinn finally grunted in resignation and acknowledgement. Bending over she felt Rachel's other hand come to her forehead, gently guiding her to prevent adding injury to insult by bonking her head on sink.

While Rachel gently washed the stickiness from her hair, she at least kept blessedly silent for the most part.

This gave her time to enjoy a small pleasure, even if it was weird circumstances. Quinn *loved* having her hair washed. It was the best and most luxurious part of getting her hair cut as far as she was concerned. That part always made her feel so pampered, even if it was just for a few minutes. This, however, was not the same thing, nose down in a public restroom. However, even here the fingers delicately working through her hair and scalp felt delicious. The hairs on the back of her neck started to stand on end.

"Tilt left please Quinn. No. You're other left"

The spell broken, Quinn snapped her jaw shut on the acidic comment she might normally make, and tilted her head the other way, spluttering as the water tried to get in her nose.

"There, all done. Now you can stand up…hey, ack, slowly. Jeez, Quinn, you about broke my nose!"

And she had indeed almost taken the other girl out when she whipped her head up, flinging her clean but dripping hair up, sending an arc of spray up the mirror.

Chuckling she made a grudging half-apology, and smiled.

"Sorry, didn't mean to catch you there. I was just getting a little claustrophobic down there. I gotta say, you do good work, Berry."

Earnest brown eyes scanned her, looking for any sign of an insult she wasn't picking up on. They softened when she saw the ex-Cheerio's genuine grin. Quinn was rewarded with a genuine smile of her own, which turned into a bit of a saucy smirk.

"I am a woman of many talents Quinn Fabray. And…I suppose if you can now be genuine enough to tell Mercedes that she is beautiful just the way she is and mean it, then I will have to hope you are now being just as sincere in your flattering opinion that in the catastrophic event that I should somehow be rendered incapable of claiming my destiny as a Broadway star… I can always fall back on a career as a mute beauticians' assistant. Or a masseuse."

Quinn laughed, and snatched the towel Rachel was now gallantly proffering.

"Mute…?"

"Naturally. What other reason could there be for me missing out on my pre-ordained Broadway stardom?"

"Ah…I see. A tragic case of….tonsillitis gone horribly, horribly out of control. Flesh-eating bacteria from deep in the Congo?"

"But of course! I would still plot my come back of course, penning my life's story and setting it to music. It would then become an overnight Broadway sensation…The Beautician of Broadway...?"

They broke into giggles, Rachel a little shyly, and Quinn with appreciation. She didn't think the constantly smiling Rachel Berry had an ounce of dry wit in her until now. She found she liked it. Still chuckling, Quinn rolled her eyes at the smaller girl, and finished up toweling her hair dry. That accomplished as best she could manage, she then rooted around in her backpack for a pony tail holder. There frankly was not much else she could do with partially damp hair at this point. As she straightened her appearance, and her neat pony tail in the mirror, she furtively looked at Rachel's refection. She'd gone noticeably quiet, and there was a different look in her big expressive eyes now, thoughtful, but strained and tight.

"What?" she demanded to the mirror.

"Nothing. I mean…I just really like your hair down. I noticed you don't wear it up in a tight pony tail anymore…and…

Her big eyes got a little solemn as her voice trailed off.

"And…what…Berry? Spit it out already. Any other things you've noticed. Like say, I'm gaining weight like there is no tomorrow? Like I have no boyfriend. I have no home…"

Quinn stopped. She had really tried to keep the sharpness out of her voice, but old habits die hard. The other girl flinched before continuing.

"I…I just like you better with it down. You have very lovely hair Quinn, you must take excellent care of it. I know to get mine to shine I have to brush it…

Quinn cleared her throat and arched her eyebrow. Rachel took the hint and continued her point.

"Fine. Okay so **besides** the fact that it is very becoming on you, I also wonder if 'pony-tail Quinn' would have told Mercedes she is beautiful the way she is. Or allow me to help her…"

Rachel had colored a little bit with her statement, and her hands were fidgeting.

Quinn dropped her chin, breaking the eye contact.

She got it. The pony tail reminded Rachel of the Quinn who used to be the one throwing slushies at the Gleeks not so very long ago. Who tortured her at every opportunity. The one who never called her by her name. Who called her RuPaul, or Manhands, or Stubbles.

Her stomach tightened in an unfamiliar uncomfortable way. Maybe that was what remorse felt like. Regret she knew. Intimately. Her hand dropped to the swelling of her belly unconsciously. It seemed forever ago now. She looked to the mirror again, eyes serious. But remorse was something pretty new Quinn.

"Berry…Rachel…I'm not going to bite. I promise. Coach Sylvester did make us keep that as part of our uniform look, this is true."

She gestured at her hair.

"But this? This…today? This is just me being practical…to keep me from looking like a drowned rat."

The still fairly disheveled blond gestured at her torso and continued.

"A drowned rat wearing…Jesus, Berry. What this _**is**_ this I'm wearing now? Oh…shit, Rachel, really?"

She looked down in horror at the kittens or cat things on her borrowed bright turquoise shirt. They looked suspiciously familiar.

"Are these the freakin' Aristocats, Berry? Oh for fuck's sake…."

Rachel looked a little hurt for a brief second. But then also defiant. She spryly shot back her retort.

"Hey, if you'd rather wear your wet, stained sticky shirt shirt, have at it. Animal motifs is how I roll."

Quinn rolled her eyes in mock horror, the tension broken, she was laughing again.

"How you roll? Really? If you say so Berry.."

"Indeed."

"Okay, okay, Berry I'll suffer through barely. Still. It must be said again. The Aristicats. Really?"

Rachel was not even remotely ashamed. She looked gleeful actually. Quinn ruefully shook her head before continuing.

"Seriously. Thanks for this Be..Rachel. Really. Apparently I need to start keeping spare, socially acceptable attire in my locker."

The singer pursed her lips together in tight smile, and nodded her head in acknowledgment of Quinn's thanks. Her eyes and her voice of compassionate when she spoke again.

"You're very welcome Quinn. I have offered my friendship and support in the past, and that offer certainly still stands. You have a lot on your plate now. We…I.. am here if you ever need anything…beyond a shampoo and change of clothes. Those are a given of course."

She was clearly biting back a small grin, and she looked like she had more to say, but she closed her mouth on anything else she had to say. Rachel was definitely getting better at reading social cues Quinn noted. The old Rachel would have been hopelessly over-eager and rambling on still. Nature, and usually, Rachel Berry abhor a vacuum.

Hm. Quinn pondered. The only change in her life was that irritating Jesse St. James. But he was a drama king, so she didn't think she could be learning the art of 'less can be more' from a fellow diva. Maybe her friendship with Finn was helping. Her ex-boyfriend was certainly adept at being socially acceptable for all that he was dumb as a box of rocks. At any rate, she was glad to be dealing with a slightly less ebullient version of Rachel Berry today.

The smaller girl spoke again after the silence had stretched a bit.

"So…speaking of rolling…lets?"

Quinn flinched at thought. It was inevitable of course. She couldn't stay here all day. But she felt a little sick at the thought of leaving the safety of the bathroom. She breathed out, barely a whisper.

"Do we have to?"

If Rachel was a little surprised that Quinn would rather stay in a bathroom with her, than go to Chem class, she tried not to show it.

"You don't want to miss ALL of Chemistry do you…? I mean you, Quinn, seem to do quite well in the class. But I, for one, am generally baffled. I don't think I can afford to miss it. I won't have the notes! And no one is going to give them to me I assure you."

Quinn eyed the girl, and if she was surprised that Rachel Berry would admit she didn't excel at something, she tried not to show it.

"Ah, but that's where you're in luck. I can help you with that. I'm a whiz at Chem, as you have so eloquently stated. Plus…I'll text Santana and make sure she takes good notes. She has it 6th period."

Rachel still looked really uncertain about the idea of missing any school. So Quinn pressed her case a little more.

"So… I know you're Jewish and all, and I don't know where you stand on the whole kosher thing…but there is a Triple bacon Baconator out there with my name on it. It's practically lunch time anyway. And don't look so shocked. Yes…I do know about kosher things, well sorta, in theory. I mean, I know I'd rather eat a Hebrew National hot dog than any other hot dog if that counts?. Anyway, we can find you something else if you like."

Rachel looked so terribly and sweetly torn, her head tilting to the side, clearly having an internal dialog. And a small part of the old Quinn emerged, a little buzz trilled with delicious excitement just under the surface of her skin. She had to admit she was getting a bit of the old thrill knowing that she could still be…persuasive. She didn't often get to practice her talent for skillful manipulation anymore. Her motives weren't really toxic now at least.

Quinn arched her eyebrow again, blatantly daring her. She pulled her car keys from her bag and dangled them…

Rachel's dark eyebrows knit together more when she thought. And she was clearly really thinking hard right now. Probably tallying Pros and Cons in a mental list in her head.

Quinn tried to sweeten the pot, taking only the slightest notice that she was actually trying to use her wiles to get Rachel Berry to have lunch with her. Odd…

"And…you can play whatever you want in the car…?"

Quinn was further disconcerted when she suddenly felt an uncomfortable, but not altogether unpleasant flip flop in her stomach as she watched her former nemesis' face light up and smile. Must be the thought of bacon. Or the baby. Or the baby wanting bacon…?

She piled it on thick now, covering it with a joke.

"Come on Berry, the baby is kicking and I think she wants bacon too."

Now, brown eyes rolled in feigned annoyance, and hazel eyes twinkled. She knew she had her, even though she earned a dramatic 'yeah right' eye roll from the diva.

"Playing the baby card Quinn? Nice…reeeal nice."

"Well, it's not like being a pregnant teen comes with a whole hell of a lot of perks other than 'the baby card' as you so eloquently put it."

She watched Rachel's face go slightly pale, and a guilty look come over her face

"I..I'm sorry..Qui.."

Quinn shrugged.

"Berry…Rachel, come on…I was teasing. I'm sorry. I know I'm a little glib sometimes. It's just how I deal…"

The other girl relaxed again, and took a deep breath.

"Okay Quinn. In the spirit of the … possible friendship that dare not speak it's name…I guess I am game. With Jesse out of town with his Vocal Adrenaline friends, I don't have any lunch plans anyway. Just please make certain that Santana will indeed take notes. Chemistry eludes me enough as it is even WITH notes."

Quinn grinned a little slyly, and a little shyly at the same time. Victory. And bacon.

She wasn't sure what to make of Rachel referring to a friendship between them. That was maybe a little more than she had envisioned when she suggested the jaunt for a bacon cheeseburger. Okay, maybe it wasn't that simple as all that. She couldn't escape the obvious fact that she wanted to escape, in general, if only for a little while. But.. Glee's lead singer was known for a distinct tendency to run away with herself and her ideas. Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead and all that.

Her stomach growled loudly and dramatically.

Rachel must have been watching her for several seconds before she spoke up.

"Uh, Quinn. Are you quite alright? If you've changed your mind and decided to attend Chemistry after all, that would be fine with me. We could even time our entrances, and no one would be the wiser and.."

She tamped down the automatic insult that the old Quinn Fabray, HBIC would have rattled out.

"No, it's Cool. Alright Berry let's get the hell out of here. My car is in the south lot."

Then she surprised both herself and the other girl by grabbing her smaller hand in a conspiratorial gesture, and pulled her towards the bathroom exit.

Rachel Berry wasn't a substitute for the Cheerios, and holding the reins of power. But she was someone who wasn't treating her like a pariah. And there were precious few people in her life like that at the moment.

tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish.

**A/N: **_First Glee fic here. Not so good at Rachel's voice, so starting mostly with Quinn's point of view. Why I feel I can get inside a pregnant cheerleading teen's head, rather than a rambling perfectionist diva's is beyond me. Sadly, I'm more of rambler, and less of a perfectionist. Constructive crit on tense much appreciated, as it's unbeta'd. _

Quinn had Rachel by the hand as she slowly pushed the science hall bathroom door open. She peered out to see if it was all clear. It wasn't like kids didn't skip class all the time, but a little bit of stealth and common sense was required. Once it was all clear, she pulled Rachel next to her motioned for her to on through the door. When the other girl looked nervous she explained herself, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"Berr..Rachel, Chill. Have a little faith! I'm really not setting you up to get caught. You're smaller, and can move quicker, yeah? Though come to think of it, if **you** get caught it will be less of a big deal than if the village slut gets caught skipping on top of everything else…"

"Faith? You want me to trust…you?"

Quinn wanted to offer a rebuttal on that point, but she had to admit that Berry didn't have much reason to trust her. She sighed.

"Fine, fine, point taken! You're are always so dramatic Rachel! Here, in a show of good faith, here, take my car keys. I can't go anywhere without you now. Happy? You know what it looks like, right? You have to hit the button twice, it doesn't always work. Top one there. Now. I'm 10 seconds behind you. Move it or lose it."

Quinn let go of her hand, and placed it on her lower back and pushed lightly.

Rachel took a deep breath, still nervous the blond could tell. But then Quinn watched her as she looked both ways and walked out, cool as you please. Quinn didn't think Rachel could be that nonchalant. She was impressed, especially since it had been obvious to her how nervous Berry was.

She watched her walk away through the cracked door. And since no one was there to see it, Quinn had to shake her head and smile appreciatively. Whatever else Berry had going on or not, the girl certainly had the legs of a trained athlete. And apparently when she wanted, she also had that attractive, sexy sashay of a dancer that always got a lot of attention for whoever knew how to pull it off. Quinn shook the weird little cobwebs out of her head that had just gathered. When the ridiculously short skirt and the girl wearing it disappeared around the corner, Quinn stepped out of the bathroom herself, and headed down the same hall.

She stopped when she heard the unmistakable voice and accent of Principal Figgins. And Rachel's clear as a bell voice, obviously answering a query from him.

"Mr. Figgins, I assure you I am in no way breaking school policy. It's just that my dads…you know my two dads?"

Shit, shit. Shit, fuck piss. She stopped in her tracks as listened, ready to bolt depending on the way it turned out. She could hear Rachel talking, babbling for all she was worth.

"Yes, well silly me, I left my chemistry assignment at home? And Daddy is just bringing it to me, and I'm on my way to meet him in the parking lot. Daddy, that is. Who is not to be confused with Dad. Dad is at the office working on a big case or something. But I can call…"

And wow, she was good. Really good. Or else she was just boring Figgins to death. Either way was fine with her. She could hear him acquiescing, and then leaving with some sort nonsense stern warning not doing this again without contacting the office.

She listened to Rachel's light clip of footsteps fade. She was already backing her way to the bathroom, as Mr. Figgins hadn't moved. Just in time, she made it back into the bathroom before he rounded the corner.

Crap, he was probably headed for the boys' bathroom, checking for delinquents. Like Puck for instance.

She crouched slightly behind the door, hand ready to push it open and go, listening for him. Yep, he was closing in. Quinn could see his feet barely through the vents on the bottom of the door. She saw them disappear into the boys' bathroom across the hall. Quickly, she pushed the door open and scurried as quietly as she could down the same path that Rachel had taken. She knew she had mere seconds before Figgins would come out.

Running silently down the hall, she burst into the sunlight of the parking lot, grinning. The adrenaline had started coming up, and her heart felt like it was soaring. It was exhilarating. Not quite like being at the top of a Cheerio pyramid, but still a sweet feeling, freedom.

She made straight for her little mid sized compact, and ducked down. She couldn't see Berry, but she'd heard the unmistakable chirrup of a door being unlocked and closed. She kept low to the ground, feeling impish.

Slowly, slowly, she crept up to the back of a car and made her way around to the passenger side. She ducked her head more at the last minute, when she saw Rachel's head predictably go 'up periscope' to look out the back window to see if Quinn had followed. She felt the weight of car shift against her shoulder minutely, telling her that Rachel had returned to her seated position. She scooted a few more inches and waited.

When she felt the car shift a bit again, she figured Rachel must be looking for her again, and she made her move.

She jumped up, and pounded the passenger side window once with the flat of her hand, at the same time uttered a loud "BOO!"

"Eeek! Holy Shit! Jesus Fucking..Quinn, you sorry sack of… holy..mother..son of a..argh!"

Rachel had jumped nearly a foot off the ground, and sputtered curses that Quinn had **never** heard her say, nor would have guessed she'd _ever _hear the singer say. Quinn was in shock… and oddly impressed. Who knew?

Quinn started giggling and guffawing out of control while she knelt on the ground. Then she worked her way back around to the driver's side of the car, still laughing. Then she heard a click and more chirruping.

Uh oh. If she was not mistaken, Rachel had just locked her out. Hell. She quit laughing very quickly, and she stood up still keeping a low profile. She tried the handle. Damn it! She was in fact not mistaken, and yes, indeed, Rachel had locked her out. Quinn leaned into the door. She could see Berry sitting with her arms crossed triumphantly across her chest. Her very expressive eyes were loud and clear, even if her voice was uncharacteristically silent. "You must pay for that." And she looked pretty implacable.

Quinn made an exaggerated puppy dog, I'm sorry face, pouty lip and all. Rachel was having none of it. So Quinn put her hands together in supplication, like a prayer, trying to look like an angel. She could almost hear Rachel's "Ha!", and she could definitely see it. Rachel arms remained locked across her chest. Her bottom lip looked like it was made specifically for pouting…

At a loss, and feeling a little guilty, and also a little scared of getting caught now standing here, Quinn searched for inspiration.

After half a minute, she thought she found it. Remembering something they'd all learned earlier that year in Glee, Quinn knocked on the window to make sure she had Rachel's full attention. Rachel raised her eyebrow in acknowledgment. Quinn then proceeded to put a sincere, not over-the-top look of apology on her face. Then she made her right hand into a fist, and then brought that fist to her chest and rubbed it in circles over her heart, patterning the sign for 'I'm sorry' in American Sign Language.

Rachel's eyes went a little wider, and she uncrossed her arms and looked at Quinn again. Quinn had dropped her hands to her sides again, and was now leaning with her head on the closed window watching. Rachel nodded a little and smiled a small smile, and brought her own hand flat to her mouth, and then moved it down and towards Quinn. Quinn knew it was the sign for 'thank you', but it also had the curious similarity to someone blowing a kiss. It made her stomach tighten a bit with what she didn't know. Her stomach also chose that moment to growl in hunger, and she looked down at it, and rubbed it.

Quinn didn't see Rachel smile when she saw the blond rubbing her belly. She just heard the chirrup and click of the doors being unlocked. She didn't need to be asked twice. She opened the door, and settled fit, but pregnant body into her seat as quickly as humanly possible.

Rachel held the keys out for her across the console. When Quinn reached for them. Rachel snatched them away at the last second.

Quinn banged her head back against the headrest in frustration. "Ha ha, very funny Berry. You've made your point. **And** I apologized. And I thought you accepted…?"

Silence.

Come on Rach…it was funny. Okay, it was funny to me. And okay, yes, I can see how some of the humor might have been lost on you, you being the cause of the humor, er…well, the victim and all…"

More silence.

"Argh. I'm sorry. Alright, I shouldn't have scared you…"

Quinn turned to face Rachel and hold out her hand, for the keys or a handshake, or something. Whatever would work. And the brunette actually looked a little amused. Too amused.

"Look Rachel, we are going to get sooo busted if we don't get out of the parking lot now. And if that…WHAT are you smiling about?"

Rachel was smiling ear to ear as she lightly took hold of Quinn hand that had been outstretched. She brought her other hand that was holding the keys forward. She placed the keys in Quinn's hand, and closed Quinn's fingers around them.

Then she shrugged her shoulders, and went about putting on her seat-belt, still smiling.

"Dude, I don't even think you eat bacon, so **what** are you so happy about now? What is _with _the smiling? Enlighten me, oh veritable font of forgiveness…"

Rachel looked only slightly more smug now. Mostly she just looked simply happy.

"You haven't called me anything insulting today. And you called me Rach. Not Berry."

Quinn pulled her lips in a half smile, half grimace. Mostly smile. She bounced her head softly against her steering wheel in mock frustration. She then turned to her co-conspirator, and put her right hand to her temple in a 'salute' sign, and followed it by a big 'thumbs up' sign. She then arched her eyebrow.

"Are we good co-pilot?"

Rachel nodded back, still a little smug.

"Triple-Baconator, ho! Oh Captain, my Captain…"

Quinn let out a sigh. I've created a monster, she thought, as she fired up the car and quickly, but not **too** quickly, eased out of the south lot.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish.

**A/N: **_First Glee fic here. Not so good at Rachel's voice, so starting mostly with Quinn's point of view. Why I feel I can get inside a pregnant cheerleading teen's head, rather than a rambling perfectionist diva's is beyond me. Sadly, I'm more of rambler, and less of a perfectionist. Constructive criticism, and/or reviews are always very much appreciated. Also will try to update again in a few days. I'll be back to writing by the weekend…! Hope it's good, it was get it out the door now, or probably wait two days!_

The day was a balmy spring day, especially for Ohio, and it buoyed both the girls' spirits. It was bright, and flowering bushes were coming out, and the trees already had out those new bright green leaves. It was one of those good to be alive kind of days. The kind that you know somehow you'll look back on, even in moment you know it. Despite Quinn's horrible slushie facial experience, this was the type of day, when just for a little while, it was impossibly easy to just say fuck it to the Lima losers. So she did.

It was only a few blocks to the land of bacon and milkshakes, and they spent the short ride in silence, until Quinn turned on the radio, and Lady Gaga was pouring out of the speakers. Rachel looked offended for a moment.

"Hey, I thought I got to choose!"

"You can. **After **I get my bacon. I'm afraid I'm going to need sustenance if I'm letting you take over the music selection. Besides…it's not like I can't see you chair dancing over there to Gaga."

"Just because I happen to have a more classic sense of music style, doesn't mean I never step outside that box Quinn. "

Quinn gave her a doubtful look.

"I'll believe it when I hear it, sister. Until then… Roma-roma-maaa…Ga Ga ooh la la…"

Quinn bounced her head in time as she sang along, and soon she was whipping into the fast-food parking lot with practiced ease. Thankfully, it was almost 11, so they only had to kill five minutes before they started serving the lunchtime food. Quinn's stomach growled at the thought.

Rachel, meanwhile started to dig in her backpack, and pulled out her soft insulated lunch cooler. Quinn watched her, puzzled. The singer opened it and pulled out seemingly endless amounts of ridiculously small plastic containers. Each one contained some sort of cut vegetable. Carrots, celery, apples, more carrots (really good for the skin of course). She had pretzels, and a little container of Rainbow Goldfish (baked of course). Quinn saw the Gold Fish and her mouth practically started to water.

"Would you care for some Goldfish? They have 0% saturated fat…not to mention their crunchy AND cheesy."

"Tempted as I am…I don't want to spoil my appetite for the other white meat, but thanks. You're like a vegetarian or something aren't you? Sorry, I forgot that."

"Not a problem, as you can see I packed my own lunch. I'm good here. Although I wouldn't be adverse to a frosty or a milkshake?"

"I think that can be arranged. Oh hey, hang on…"

Quinn reached behind Rachel's seat, looking for her backpack. It was little awkward, but since Rachel was so short, she could at least bend enough around the small swell of her baby bump to be able to reach. She ended up lurching a bit more than she had planned, brushing by Rachel's shoulder, and banging her nose into the other girl. Which hurt a little, but it hurt her dignity more than anything else. On top of that, because she'd not unhooked her seat belt, she was a little tangled up to boot.

Still half jammed behind Rachel's seat, she rubbed her nose with her left hand, while her right hand continued to reach for the backpack. She couldn't help but get a big nose full of Eau de Berry. It was a clean smell. Some minute undertone of vanilla. Of course, what girl her age _didn't _smell like vanilla? She knew she did a little bit herself. But there was something else…some other scent of something. She found herself breathing in again the pleasant aroma, as she finally found her bag by touch.

"Uh, Quinn, can I help you? Get something back there I mean? That doesn't look terribly comfortable, or good for the baby."

Quinn stopped moving. Her internal monolog started up. _"Awkward much Fabray? What the hell is wrong with you? That is just creepy. Don't be creepy. Stop smelling Berry."_

.

She needed away to salvage her dignity. _"Think woman!" _Since she had in fact, forgotten to take her seat belt off before attempting this little maneuver she would henceforth call Awkward Downward Facing Pregnant Teen, she had what she hoped was a good excuse for sniffing, twice (at least!) the other girl. She was in fact a little stuck. For real, really stuck. Her hair was caught in the elastic band that held the magazine holder catch all thingie in to the back of her seat. So it was really just a matter of playing it up, making it look worse than it was, right?

She made her tone slightly sardonic.

"This just in, Berry. I'm stuck. A little help here?"

"Ah. Okay, hang on. I see the problem. You know Quinn, if you're hair wasn't in this pony tail…"

Quinn growled. Rachel laughed.

"I'm just sayin..' it's caught up in your elastic. Hang on…and…there."

"Ow, damn it! That hurt Rachel.." Quinn hissed and scratched the side of her head on the spot where it had pulled the most.

Rachel had a contrite look on her face at least.

Now that she was upright though, she attempted to keep her voice as nonchalant and matter of fact as possible, considering she was just possibly caught smelling Rachel Berry's hair. I mean, women in this society were allowed to compliment each other, right?

"Thanks though. Oh, and in other news, you smell good, what is it that I smell? Product? Soap?"

Rachel was clearly caught a little off-guard by the seemingly unvarnished compliment, and she looked suitably bashful. Most queries from Quinn involving Rachel and smell had NOT been of the compliment variety. And a truly sincerely bashful Rachel Berry was something she'd never seen. Of course all of Glee had seen the any number of the scripted falsely modest smiles and murmurs of appreciation form the diva. But this was a first for Quinn. And she was more than a little pleased with herself for eliciting it.

"Thanks. I don't know…? Maybe my lotion or conditioner? I use a combination of…"

And now Quinn was ready to tune her out again. She liked the way she smelled, but she didn't always like the way the girl rambled. She wanted to cut it short, but didn't want to be too rude about it. So, she reached into her bag for what she was after in the first place, her ipod. She grabbed the item, and hooked it up to her stereo while the other girl kept talking.

"...organic botanicals, cruelty free maybe? I believe the conditioner is anyway…"

Quinn finally interrupted the brunette and her discourse on hair product, holding up her red-encased ipod.

"Rach, hey! Here you go, as promised. Come Mr. DJ, put a record on…mi ipod es su pod...? Well, for the duration of today's little jaunt that is."

Quinn arched her eyebrow, and handed the ipod to the other girl with great ceremony.

The smaller girl beamed, and still managed to take the possession of her ipod with all appropriate solemnity.

Once she had her little hands on it though, she turned immediately starting ferreting around in her music archives.

"Do you have any Broadway? Or a Broadway playlist? Or perhaps Broadway subdivided into appropriate categories…like Tragic Broadway, Epic Broadway, Funny Broa.."

Quinn interrupted before her brain exploded.

"Yes…I have some Broadway. No playlists per se, just a few soundtracks. The usual suspects probably. Rent, Wicked, Next to Normal…"

The crestfallen look Rachel gave her initially was priceless. And so was her expression when she perked up a bit at the mention of two of her idol's best known vehicles to stardom. Quinn was certain that every night Rachel Berry pictured herself in green makeup, belting out Defying Gravity to audiences twice a day. It made Quinn smile to have that confirmed for all practical purposes, when the other girl lit up at the mention of Wicked.

"But.. Rachel, why not listen to something...a little…different for a change? Ya know, maybe broaden your horizons?"

Rachel looked back down at the device, scrolling through playlists.

"Okay, Disney Classics?"

Quinn snorted, and laughed at the predictability of her choice. And also because it was going to backfire. Rachel looked at her, the puzzlement plain in her expressive eyes.

"Uh, Berry, that isn't what you think…really.."

As the other girl gave her a shrug, effectively saying conveying her thoughts. "What could be wrong with Disney classics?".

Quinn _probably_ should have said something, but…she let it go, knowing the other girl was probably wasn't going to drop it anyway.

"Good lord. Fine…but I don't think it's what you're expecting, and don't say I didn't war.."

She trailed off, seeing a mischievous smile on the Rachel's face, as she went to the playlist and hit the shuffle button.

She heard a gruff male whisper start up.

"Let the bodies hit the floor…let the bodies hit the floor.."

Quinn smirked, tilting her head, and arching an eyebrow at Rachel scrunched up her face, and started slinking down in her seat, the rough aggressive male voice seem to be pounding her sensibilities into submission. As Drowning Pool's Bodies kept playing Quinn started nodding her head along with the cadence, just to make Rachel squirm.

"_One, nothing wrong with me_

_Two, nothing wrong with me_

_Three, nothing wrong with me_

_One, something's got to give_

_Two…"_

Rachel eyebrows went way up, and she screwed her eyes up and looked like she might be in pain. She listened until apparently she could take it no longer. She pushed buttons, any button to make it stop. Unfortunately it only got louder. She pushed again, hitting the 'next' button and was rewarded with a slightly decidedly less aggressive selection. The melody was more soothing apparently, as Rachel quit grimacing. That is until she looked at the title.

"Fury in the Slaughterhouse? Wow. Really, Quinn, if I wasn't already aware it was probably not a good idea to get on your bad side, rest assured, I'm abundantly clear on that now."

"What's he saying? Every generation got its own disease? Lovely Quinn. Well, I do like the music okay…"

Quinn chuckled at that, especially when Rachel turned the volume down, belying her last statement.

"Told you. That playlist name is…code? I guess? My parents used to get nosy on me. Back when they cared that is. Anyway, one time they took away my ipod for a week because they saw a playlist I'd made that was oh-so-cleverly named something like 'Everybody Fuck Off"'… so…I had to come up with something that wouldn't be QUITE so obvious. And…uh Disney Classics is my replacement title…? Sorry Berry, but at least some of Disney is pretty much what I'd imagine they'd be playing for me down in Hell..."

Rachel looked only mildly affronted at the Disney dig, and repeated the playlist name aloud again.

"Disney Classics. Okay then. Is there perhaps something you'd like to try that we might both find mutually pleasant?"

"Uh, mutually pleasant. It sounds like you're you propositioning me Berry?"

The smaller girl blushed, Quinn took pity on her knowing she meant nothing of the kind.

"Kidding Rach. Besides, I doubt I'm your type. Not dramatic enough. Well, except for this pregnant teen thing I'm working. Yeah, hm, right about now, I don't think I'm anybody's type!"

Quinn barked a harsh laugh. When she heard the self-deprecating tone Quinn was using, she looked at her sharply, over her embarrassment. She put her hand on Quinn's shoulder, then pulled it back, not wanting to overstep the vulnerable and very delicate bonds of a budding friendship, or kinship.

"Quinn, you've always been beautiful. And, honestly, with the pregnancy and everything, and eating healthy..well, healthier, whatever. You are just…breathtaking right now. Believe me."

Since Quinn hadn't reacted adversely to her first tentative touch, she dared to rest her hand on her shoulder, adding emphasis to her words, gave it a gentle squeeze.

Quinn sucked in a breath. And she silently put her left hand on top of Rachel's hand, and gave it a quick squeeze before dropping it. She took even breaths.

Rachel waited quietly for Quinn to speak or do something. Finally Quinn cleared her throat before speaking. And Rachel took the hint and removed her hand from the other girl's her shoulder. She didn't feel rejected, just realized that they had reached a natural end to that topic for now, at least for now.

"Thanks Rachel. That…means a lot. Now. Now, it's past 11:00. And that means bacon!"

The joy at the thought of bacon was evident on the blond's face.

"And I'll ponder your music question for a bit, unless you see something else on there that piques your interest first.."

She pulled the car out the parking space and went to the drive-thru. She wasn't normally all keen on wasting gas and looking too lazy to walk inside, but as they were skipping school, discretion was probably the better part of valor in this case.

She pulled up and ordered her Baconator combo.

"Milkshake? What flavor Rachel?"

"Mmm.. Vanilla."

"Vanilla it is."

Rachel was still fiddling with the ipod, and came upon various one word playlists with names like Drive, Read, Write, Arithmetic, Run, Think. Do. She was admittedly intrigued.

"So are these like playlists for these activities? I can't read with music on very well personally, at least not for learning purposes. How do you do it?"

Quinn was waiting impatiently for the combo meal to appear magically at the drive through window, and she was getting short of patience at this point.

"No words in songs from that one. Classical. "

Rachel looked at her with some surprise and admiration.

"I didn't know you liked classical."

Quinn wanted to blow it off and call her on the fact that she had been making assumptions. Instead, she decided to forego the snide comment on the tip of her tongue, and was just honest.

"I…well, before Cheerios, I used to play the piano… a lot more. So you could say I have a decent familiarity with them. Nothing I like the best would be shocking probably. You know, Pachebel's Canon in D, Vivaldi's Le Quattro Staggione, you know that sort of thing. Mostly soothing, and non-distracting. Same with what I study math or chemistry to really. Maybe Carmina Burana, if I'm working hard on something. It doesn't have to be classical, but it does have to be an instrumental of some ki….Oooohhh. Bacon."

The food finally arrived and interrupted Quinn. Rachel was disappointed not to hear a little more about Quinn, things she'd never guessed at. But now the blond was eagerly exchanging her money for the apparent ambrosia of the Baconator. She eagerly dug in and was handing the milkshake to Rachel. Rachel was looking at her still, mouth agape.

"What? Rachel. Quit looking at me like I have two freakin' heads here! I told you I wanted some bacon!"

Rachel tried to shake the surprise off her face, and studiously went about rearranging her containers of various veggies. She answered quietly.

Everyone knows you love bacon Quinn. I was just still processing the information about your musical tastes. I was just surprised is all.

Quinn meanwhile grabbed a handful of fries and started munching a few, as delicately as she could for a hungry pregnant teen. She looked at Rachel a little sideways, seeing that she was smiling. Rachel returned her gaze for a moment, and then dropped her eyes to the ipod she was still holding before continuing.

"Pleasantly surprised, I might add."

Quinn made a non-committal sound in her throat. She wasn't sure how she felt about the back-handed compliment she'd just received. But she was enjoying herself at the moment, so she thought what the hell, let's take it a step further, and really just hang out for a bit.

"Hey, wanna hit Upton Park? It's pretty out. And those concrete tables usually soak up the sun and are plenty warm to sit on?

Rachel smiled a huge smile, all the way up to her eyes.

"I believe that would be lovely. That is, if you think you can refrain from devouring your piece de la resistance until we get there?"

Quinn huffed a little and growled before turning the car back on and putting it in gear.

"Keep it up, and I take back the ipod kiddo."

As Quinn sped off towards the park, Rachel grinned, but turned her body away from Quinn, and shielded the ipod in question in case Quinn tried to make good on her threat.

Quinn's phone buzzed a text message arrival.

Puck.

Quinn looked down at it. She could see it was Puck. Rachel looked down at it. She could also see it was Puck. Quinn ignored it, and accelerated slightly, a half smile in place. Rachel raised her eyebrows, and grabbed the oh-shit handle on the side of the car door, and, a half smile on her lips as well, she went back to indulging her fascination with Quinn's ipod.

Tbc…


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish

**A/N: **_Working on next chapter already, just had to cut this one short due to...well, pets. And unexpected company.. And as always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews! omg, I had to make corrections. SOOO not impressed with MS Word. How it can let _a repeated word like "experience experiencing", not to mention some other crrrap it let by. Sorry guys. Maybe I need a beta after all, lol.

Quinn headed at a pretty good clip out to the outskirts of Lima towards the river and Upton Park, which was one of the bigger, but less frequented parks. It encompassed a small lake and it attracted a lot of bird life, which she loved. She decided to she'd take all the back ways she knew to get there. One, it was prettier that way, and two, she really wasn't interested in running into any of the upperclassmen who had off campus lunch privilege. They were much likelier to hit the city park as it was much closer to campus.

She looked over at her passenger, still coming to grips with the novelty of Rachel Berry being in her car. It had all happened so fast. And here they were. It felt a little odd. But really she had only just admonished Rachel for not broadening her musical horizons; she was really just trying to take her own advice. Sure. Rachel Berry was a bit of a freak. Well, more than a bit. And of course that hadn't changed, no matter how much Rachel wanted it. New Directions moving up the Glee club competition chain did not equal Rachel Berry moving up the social chain at McKinley High. Really, it was more that Quinn, and the rest of the Gleeks, were…rising closer to Rachel's level of freakdom? Whatever, or however, it felt like things were leveling out. So having Rachel Berry in her car wasn't as absurd as she thought perhaps.

She gazed out at the road, taking in the winding road, and the houses they passed. They were both ignoring the fact that Quinn had just gotten a text from Puck. Or at least she thought they both were.

Rachel apparently couldn't contain the urge to pipe up on the subject, in typically incredibly tangential and verbose fashion of course.

"While I laud your commendable safe driving technique Quinn, as you are no doubt aware that texting while driving is fast becoming one of the leading causes of serious and even fatal car accidents, you should certainly feel free pull over to a safe spot and communicate with Noah if you'd like. He might have something important…"

Quinn cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand coupled with a frustrated growl. Rachel looked a little taken aback at that, Quinn heaved a tired sigh and shrugged.

"Berry, I see Puck every freakin' day. I see him in History, sometimes… I see him in Glee, I see him at night... I see his _mom_ at night. I see his little _sister_ sometimes at night, though sometimes she is so worn out from…I don't even know what, she is sometimes in bed. My point is, whatever Puck has to say, I assure you it can wait til the next time I see him. And if it can't wait, he'll call. I've had enough of the man child at the moment, alright? Let's just…pretend boys, and all the crap they bring with them don't exist for awhile, okay? Please?"

Rachel got quiet and nodded. She remained lost in her own thoughts for a moment. There really did appear to be a softer side of Quinn that was trying to emerge. And she most certainly did not want to poke the angry bear that seemed to be hibernating at the moment.

She knew from the birthing class her father's had enrolled her in (as a prophylactic they said) that Quinn would probably be experience experiencing some incredibly wild mood swings throughout her pregnancy. Was this such a mood swing, she wondered? Or, had this vulnerable, dare-she-say, friendlier Quinn that was emerging always been there, just subverted by her family. Her well-to-do, uptight, inhumane sounding status-conscious parents.

Rachel couldn't imagine her dad's throwing her on the street because of one bad decision. Especially since the very reason she had her dads at all was because they had been willing and able, and even eager to be of help to someone in situation perhaps similar to Quinn's. And she knew she could count on her dads to love her no matter what.

She sighed, and looked over to see Quinn looking at her. Not quite sure how to voice her assent, she started rambling off the top of her head.

"Well. I'm certainly amenable to that at this juncture in my social life. Jesse hasn't…been himself. Or rather, we haven't been ourselves since my ill-fated theatrical endeavor. At least he is speaking to me now. I mean, I will allow that perhaps I was influenced by my lowly station on the Glist to push the bounds of artistry….or something. But really, I just think he was putting too fine a point on it. He certainly knows that Noah and I are nothing more than friends! And then while Finn is certainly a valued friend to me, I thought…I thought that Jesse and I both, together, made it perfectly clear to Finn that I was Jesse's girl… "

Quinn laughed a bit harshly. When Rachel looked at her a little hurt, she raised her brows and shrugged.

"Come on Berry, seriously? You didn't think that that whole, Run Joey Run farce might hurt drama boy's feelings? I mean, I know he likes to live out loud and all that just like you, but come one. I don't even like the guy, but you gotta admit, he had a right to be a little pissed, don't you think?"

Rachel heaved a big sigh before she replied, sounding the slightest big dramatic, and more than a little defensive.

"But...I don't know, I thought…I mean, he said he moved here for me. I thought he would do anything for me. He said he would...and...well, frankly don't see what kerfuffle was all about, it was just some a performance piece that I..."

"Rachel. Please. Save it. Take it from someone who knows. It is not cool to play so fast and loose with the feelings of people who care about you. It **will** come back to bite you in the ass. Don't mess with people like I did. Argh. I did it again.

They came to a stoplight, and she slammed her hands against the steering wheel. "Boys! Enough of the talk about the boys!"

Rachel blanched a little, as getting schooled about hurting feelings from Quinn Fabray was a little galling. More so because Rachel guessed she might be right. Damn her. But…hey, she wasn't supposed to be thinking about him anyway, so she put it out of mind, and got back to the matter at hand.

"Okay Quinn. No more boy talk. Loud and clear. We shall be like unto the Knights to say Ni. Henceforth, utterances about boys shall be anathema."

Rachel grinned, and Quinn chuckled. "So shall it be."

Rachel got a puzzled look on her face, and tentatively spoke.

"So Quinn, may I ask a question? I mean. Okay, I confess I'm confused. Uh, it will probably come as no great surprise that I am largely unpracticed in the art of 'girl talk'. But…well, I was always under the impression that girl talk was **about** boys…?"

Quinn laughed, and snorted a bit before she answered, and Rachel was even more puzzled, but still charmed by the snort.

"God, but they'd all like to think so wouldn't they? Well, it certainly doesn't have to be. It has come to bore me lately. Blame it on the hormones? I don't know. But frankly, you and I have far too much in common in the way of boys, don't you think? Unless you want to compare notes on how Finn and Puck kiss…?"

By now, Quinn was grinning a little mischievously.

Rachel turned pale yet again, and then she blushed and rolled her eyes, squeezing them shut in horror at the thought of such a discussion with Quinn. This was not at all lost on Quinn, who clearly thought the idea hilarious now that the Rachel/Quinn/Finn drama was over. She continued teasing the brunette, but without any underlying malice.

"No? Not today. I forgot our no b-word rule. So I think we'll save that debate for girl's night out with beer…I'm sure S and B, Tina, Artie and **especially **Kurt would love to be able to hear our compare and contrast, right? Which…well, will be awhile for me, right?"

Rachel groaned audibly, and paled at the thought of having such a discussion at **all**, much less in front of an audience. However, the thought of Quinn even flippantly including her so casually in a girls night out scenario, even if was just with the Gleeks made gave her a pleasant light-headed giddy sort of feeling.

Quinn was tapping her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited to pull onto the river road that led to the park, while her other hand on her belly rubbed circles over the swelling there. Thinking out loud and continued.

"So. How about it Berry? As an experiment, maybe we just start with the weather, like we're just strangers on a train for now? Isn't weather considered the 'safe' topic of choice?"

Rachel smiled a little, having returned to her normal tan coloring.

"I do… hope, maybe, we're a little better than strangers on a train now Quinn…"

And because Rachel was Rachel and couldn't help herself, she tacked an addendum onto her statement.

"Strangers on a Train…you know that was the title of a fantastic classic Alfred Hitchcock movie by the way…"

Quinn smiled fondly, and glanced at her as she drove along to the next traffic light, slowing to crawl to accommodate some geese that were waddling a bit close to the road. The park was thick with them, or would be soon. She loved them, and the ducks that came around too. But it meant you had to watch your step near the lake.

"I **know** about Hitchcock Rachel. Sheesh. Anyway, as for us being strangers? Well, I don't know that two chicks who have dated the same two same guys, one of which is the bastard father of my child could really possibly be total strangers? Frankly, I'm not sure they're friends either, but there might be hope for something better than strangers…"

Quinn watched her as she said this, and it gave her a bit of the warm and fuzzies inside to see that Rachel had caught another small hint of her peace offering, for lack of a better term, and the smaller girl had a thoughtful smile on her face.

The girl was a born 'processer', and Quinn knew she would probably want to leap all over the statement and try to parse it right here and now. So to forestall this, she smirked at her, eyes full of fun, and pitched her voice a little lower and sultry, purposefully adding a _horrific_ fake Southern accent.

"And so…do tell me, Rachel…is it? Rachel Berry? Tell me, how **do** you like this ever so fine weather we're havin' this fine day?"

Rachel actually guffawed, which was something to see. She glanced down at Quinn's ipod that she had been continuously fiddling with, and cleared her throat, pitching her own best version of a southern belle.

"Well Quinn…Fabray was it? I declare, I simply cannot imagine a better way to describe the weather, and today, than this…"

She then pushed play, and the opening chords started up.

Quinn listened. Then she raised her brows and grinned her approval, nodding her head in time to the music, as the chords of Beautiful Day started up.

_The heart is a bloom_

_Shoots up through the stony ground_

Immediately Rachel started singing along with Bono. And Quinn jumped in and answered back with the next lyric.

_There no room.._

_No space to rent in this town_

Quinn threw her head back and laughed, and soon the two girls were happily tooling along the byways of Lima, belting out U2.

_What you don't have you don't need it now_

_What you don't know you can feel it somehow._

Quinn was smiling inside. It was indeed the perfect song for their impromptu getaway drive.

Tbc…


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone again for your comments. As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews!_

Lima wasn't a big city. It wasn't even a small city, and it doesn't take too long to find the edge of town. But it seemed that Lima's inhabitants seldom did…try to get out of town that is. Everyone knew Rachel would get the hell out of Lima, and whether anyone knew it or not, Quinn had never figured on staying here past high school. And now, Quinn feared she never would either.

Quinn shook her head physically, as she mentally did the same to the stray intrusive melancholy thought. And she did it with an ease that surprised even herself. But it just didn't belong here on this beautiful day, so she was able to banish it somehow, when she hadn't been able to do anything of the kind for months now. She just focused on the fact that it was nice to get away from the concrete suburbia. What 'urb' Lima was 'sub' of, was unclear. Nothing was _that_ close.

And so it was only a matter of a few minutes before they pulled up to the park. It was almost over too soon, as they were both enjoying the ride once they got the 'no boys' ground rule taken care of.

Quinn turned off the car, and bounded out with enthusiasm she rarely felt these days outside of her time in Glee practice. They both grabbed their backpacks and their lunches and headed to the only lightly worn footpath that led to the grassy areas, and various picnic spots.

Rachel walked ahead a bit, in her ridiculously short skirt. Quinn shook her head ruefully at the girl's complete and utter lack of fashion. It wasn't like she didn't look good in the skirts. She did. Quinn knew her own legs were certainly nothing to sneeze at. Or at least that had been the case when she was still captain of the Cheerios. But she had to admit that just about anyone with a pulse that could get past the odd grandmother/toddler fashion she was always sporting would have to admit Rachel Berry had some **killer** legs. But really, those skirts were just so **very** short. She wondered sometimes what Rachel's much mentioned gay dads were thinking, letting her dress like that.

Rachel had stopped slightly ahead, and stood gazing out towards the lake. She squinted her eyes, and put her hand to her forehead to block the sun. She looked thoughtful, taking in the temperate breeze and sun.

There were concrete tables spaced every thirty yards or more apart long the trail, Trees were interspersed as well, so there was shade if you wanted. They each had the little concrete grill next to them. The kind you wouldn't really want to touch, much less prepare food with.

Quinn chose a table near the far end of the loop around the park that had full sun on it, but was close to the lake, and had a good view. The tables were indeed warm to the touch, as promised.

Rachel was still walking along, behind the ex-cheerleader now, still gazing at the lake distractedly as she kept pace. She slowed some more, and looked around, and out at the lake again.

"My dads used to bring me here every year. It's been awhile. But I do remember it. We always came in the summer, in June, and it was nice getting a cool breeze off the river. I haven't been... in a few years though. There were always a lot of geese and ducks on this side of the lake. There where it's shallow."

Quinn had tossed her backpack on the table and had wasted little time tearing into the paper bag that still held her Baconator. The amount of food it felt like she needed to sustain herself these days was ridiculous. She was always hungry. She took a few bites, getting some sustenance, before acknowledging the other girl's earlier comment.

"Why did you stop coming?"

Rachel turned to see Quinn chewing with gusto. She had actually decided Quinn hadn't heard her or didn't care, and had gotten lost in her own thoughts for a moment.

"Oh, they still come. It was always in June of course, and there was always something going on here after the parade."

Quinn looked arched her eyebrows into a wordless question, as she took another bite.

"June is Pride month? So, there was always a bit of a party here after the parade. Not a big party mind you, this _is _Lima after all. "

Quinn held out the remainder of Rachel's vanilla shake to her. Rachel returned to the picnic bench, as Quinn attempted to wash down the last of her burger with her own drink, and Rachel could hear the sad dry sound of a straw being sucked in vain.

She handed her shake back to Quinn, who looked surprised.

"Thanks Rach…maybe just a little bit…?"

Rachel smiled warmly.

"Take as much as you'd like Quinn. If you and your body want it, baby must want it too. And I must say baby must really want bacon…alot."

She was rewarded first a gracious thank-you smile, and then shortly after with a pink tongue being stuck out at her, presumably for the bacon comment. Quinn sipped some of the milkshake, looking up at Rachel intently.

"So, you didn't answer my question really. Why did _you_ stop coming, I mean?"

Quinn was honestly curious. She, and everyone for that matter, knew Rachel had _two gay dads_ because…well she reminded everyone of that all the time. And it certainly didn't seem like Rachel was embarrassed by that fact. Rather the opposite.

There was a long pause, and Quinn didn't have any visual clues as to why.

The sun was directly above and behind Rachel's head, at least from the angle that Quinn had sitting on the bench looking up at her, so she couldn't really see the expression on the girls' face. Finally, Quinn detected the movement of a shrug from the other girl.

"Well, I've always enjoyed it, and we always have…well, _had_ great fun. It's just well…? Now I've got dance and theater camp...and...singing lessons, and I'm thinking of adding some basic guitar…I guess…I just haven't made it the past two years."

She finished her statement quietly, and it sounded like she felt a little guilty.

"Maybe your schedule will work out better this year. I bet they miss having you there…here, finish this, and come eat your lunch." Quinn handed her the rest of the milkshake.

She sat down next to Quinn on the warm table, her feet on the seat below her.

"Maybe. I guess it would if I make it. I could certainly teach myself guitar I'm sure, don't you think? Maybe I could ask Noah…" She cut herself off, remembering the no mentioning boys rule of the day. She glanced at Quinn who, who typically arched her eyebrow, effectively conveying her mock displeasure.

Quinn laughed at the meek look on Rachel's face. "Ni!"

Rachel giggled, and Quinn joined her. After they stopped, Quinn couldn't help herself. "So Berry, I just can't picture you watching Monty Python…"

Rachel grimaced, her secret out, and she felt the need to explain herself as usual. "Well, how can I not like a musical whose signature number is "Always look on the brought side of life." She sung the line to Quinn, who nodded, and smiled and shrugged.

"Makes sense…?"

"And, well Dad adores John Cleese. Dad was more of a Graham Chapman admirer. Did you know he was gay?"

"I did not. Huh. Well, hell, they all dressed up like women all the time, so should I be surprised?"

"Quinn, not all gay men are cross-dressers, or…well, flamboyant you know!"

The blond looked a little abashed. "I know, Rach, I'm not trying to be disparaging, I'm sorry."

"I will admit my dads are heavily into Broadway and theater." Rachel snickered a bit before continuing in a dry tone. "But I'll bet you already knew that.…"

Quinn let a tiny giggle out, and surprised Rachel by leaning into her and bumping her playfully with her shoulder.

"Well, I'm sure you will be equally surprised to hear that my delightful parental units, back when they still admitted to having a second daughter, acted like they have a two by four stuck up their collective asses."

Rachel looked aghast and shocked at Quinn's playful bump, her mouth hanging open, a silent 'heyyy!' being shaped by her lips. She smiled hugely, and then dared bump her back on the shoulder. Quinn laughed heartily. It hurt a little to speak the truth so bluntly about her parent's attitude toward her now. But just saying it out loud and continuing to air it out, took some of the sting away.

"Oh, yes, it's true the Fabrays of Upper Lima have always had this peculiar ailment. I do have some cousins in Massachusetts who seem to have found a way to remove the apparently hereditary log of wood. Which is weird, because I'm pretty sure they're more…well...well-to-do than my father's branch…maybe they married into some artistic hippie stock? Two of my cousins were raised Jewish. My mom…she about went apoplectic when she heard. Like it matters! But it's not 'her' side of the family, so she still feels superior, if you can believe it. Lord knows my mother's side of the family didn't help. I think I have a great uncle who is a bishop in Pennsylvania, and another who is in seminary now."

Rachel looked wide-eyed, and at her companion. She turned to face her more fully.

"Wow. I mean I knew you came from a religious background and all…but…"

"Oh yes. And do you know what goes really well with the Fabray's version of a good Catholic background?"

Rachel raised her eyebrows, and shook her head no.

Quinn looked at her, and drolly said "Wine. Or Whine. Both really."

Rachel was perplexed, and just didn't know what the proper response to that was. Her instinct was to be comforting. But that was pretty much blown out the window when Quinn snorted, and burst into quiet laughter. It was a sarcastic laughter at first, but then Quinn then really let go, and it grew to a raucous, giggling laughter. Soon, without even knowing why really, Rachel was giggling a little with her, and then a little more. Quinn was losing control now, tears started coming out, she was laughing so hard.

It was such a relief to laugh like she hadn't laughed in ages. She started heaving in her breaths a bit, still spouting with giggles occasionally. And then…a very loud and shocking sound erupted from her mouth.

Rachel jumped at the loudness and unexpected ferocity of the sound that emerged from the blond.

"Oh for fucks sake…***hic***. The hiccup..***hic*** hiccups! I really hate the hiccups! Takes me forever to get rid of them."

Rachel, who had quieted down some, burst out laughing again, shaking her head, wordless, unable to catch her breath

"So sorry Quinn! Oh my god, I can't believe you made that sound…bwaaaa hahahaha!" Rachel was trying to reel it in, unsuccessfully.

"About what half-pint? ***hic*** My practically alkie parents, or my debilitate..***hic*** debilitating hiccups!" She demanded.

Rachel eyes went wide for a second, fearing she'd really offended the other girl. But Quinn's face was more sardonic than ticked off.

"Both…?" Once she squeaked out her response, she burst into her own uncontrollable laughter.

Quinn's look of shock was priceless, had Rachel been in any shape to see it. But she was curled in a ball laughing too hard to notice.

Quinn shrugged, and giggled a little herself again. "Fair enough, Berry. I'm sure I ***hic*** I've done more than enough to deserve it along the way. ***hic***"

The brunette was howling now.

"No nooo don't mind ***hic*** me here. I'll just sit here and try to hold my breath. ***hic*** You go right ahead and just laaaugh your ***hic*** snarky little ass off over there."

And she did. Quinn couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Yo, Berry, if you are ***hic*** given to this sort of fit on a regu ***hic*** regular basis, you need to not wear those barely there skirts of yours. Anyone walking ***hic*** by would have quite the view right about now ***hic***, just so you know…'"

Rachel squeaked again, grabbed her skirt and sat up from the prone position she'd fallen into on the warm picnic table. Her face was red, from all the laughing, but also because she was a bit mortified now.

"See, this is what I'm sayin ***hic***"

Rachel straightened herself and her outfit some more, and took a deep breath."Whew, that was exhausting!"

Quinn looked at her dryly, but admittedly with a little amusement she couldn't deny.

"I'm glad you got your ***hic*** workout in…it's too bad hiccups aren't contagious like ***hic*** yawns are." The blond took a gulp of air, and looked at her pointedly.

Rachel took a deep breath, and looked at the other girl. "Well, how do you usually get rid of them?"

The blond rolled her eyes, arched her left brown while a sing-song muffled noise emitted from her closed mouth. She pointed to her mouth.

"Ah, holding your breath. Not full proof. The key to this is to calm the spasms of the diaphragm and regulate the breathing response again. With my excellent breath control training, clearly.."

Quinn growled ***hic***. She let her breath out and immediately took in another lungful of air, and looked at the brunette stubbornly.

"Seriously Quinn. That will probably eventually work, as your body calms down, but if you try it my way, you'll be out of your misery sooner rather than later. And those are some seriously impressive hiccups there. They are coming from way down in your diaphragm aren't they? Quinn, if you would sing more from your..Ack! Hey!"

Quinn, scowling at her, had reached over and smacked her upside the back of the head. She released the breath she'd been holding in a rush and snorted a giggle. ***hic***

"Worth it. Totally worth it ***hic***"

Rachel stood up quickly and stood to face her companion, her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side. "I hope so Fabray… now, would you like my assistance or not here?"

Quinn looked not at all chagrined.

***hic***

Rachel continued, waiting.

"Oh fine, bring it. My stomach has enough problems with ***hic*** it being crowded out, and my bladder, well let's not ***hic*** talk about that. What do I have to do?"

Rachel looked very self-satisfied, and she clasped her hands in front her.

"Okay, this is just about getting the intake and outlet of air in balance."

She held out her hands in front of her, palms up. "One of my dads, or my singing coach would help me with this until I got the hang of it, or really mostly stopped getting hiccups very often because.."

Quinn finished the sentence for her "because of your superior breath control?" ***hic***

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes of course. Now come on Quinn."

Quinn sighed dramatically, punctuated by another hiccup. She dutifully raised her own hands palms up, and felt them lightly but firmly enclosed by Rachel's small warm hands from below and then rotated so that Quinn's hands were palms down on top of Rachel's, still being held lightly.

***hic!*** The blond looked at her expectantly. "Yes…?"

"You need to take a deep breath. Not huge, but a little deeper than a normal breath at least. No, don't start yet though."

"I'm going to raise my hands, and while I'm doing that, you need slowly and evenly inhale small amounts. Steady."

She watched Quinn's hazel eyes looking expectant but skeptical. When she felt Rachel's hands moving her own up little by little, so she started to inhale.

"Now, when I squeeze your hands, you will stop inhaling, no not yet, sorry, I was demonstrating. When I squeeze them again, you can start **slowly** releasing your breath as I lower your hands until I we reach the bottom and I squeeze them again. And…then repeat as necessary. Got it?"

Quinn nodded, staring into her eyes, still inhaling slowly as she could. Her lungs were getting a little full. Just then, she felt Rachel lightly squeeze her hands. Quinn watched her nod encouragingly. She released her breath, slowly and steadily.

***hic***

Rachel made a sympathetic face at Quinn, who looked annoyed now.

"Again Quinn. It's okay, I think you're getting there. That was the longest you've gone the last few minutes without hiccuping, right?"

Another squeeze of her hand, and Quinn had to nod her head back and forth in agreement. It was true. It might be getting better.

"Concentrate on your breath, and the feel of my hands. Focus"

So Quinn did. She was pondering how small Rachel "Manhands" Berry's hands felt. They felt very…comforting. And warm. Nice. Competent.

She felt a little lightheaded, and she hadn't realized she shut her eyes, and apparently gotten lost in the breathing, and feeling of warm hands. When she felt another squeeze, she couldn't remember if she was breathing in or out at this point.

When she opened her eyes again, she had to squint a little at the sun, and found herself looking straight into the other girl's warm brown eyes, which were looking at her with a mixture of reassurance and compassion. She was now definitely a little light-headed actually, and a little warm, though not unpleasantly so. She was just relaxed she guessed.

Rachel was smiling encouragingly. She felt almost dizzy herself. She had gotten a little caught up in the exercise along with her, finding herself mirroring Quinn's breathing as she went. But she was pleased it seemed to have worked. Quinn looked more relaxed, and she didn't seem to realize they'd gone through almost ten rounds of the breathing exercise. It had felt so relaxing and comfortable, and Quinn hadn't let go to indicate she felt cured. So she kept it up. It couldn't be a bad thing if the expectant mother got in some relaxation time, could it?

And when Quinn finally opened her eyes, she found herself completely and unexpectedly dazzled. The sun behind her was hitting Quinn full in the face, and lighting up her eyes. And they were the most exquisite kaleidoscope of greens and gold and brown, and even turquoise. Rachel, flustered, was utterly entranced.

A simultaneous, understated, but completely involuntary "wow" dropped from both pairs of lips. Both hoped the other hadn't noticed.

Quinn took a last deep breath, and squeezed Rachel's hands in thank you, not quite wanting to let go, but not having any reason to keep hold of her hands, other than it felt…nice.

"Well, they're gone. And…well, I feel…well, pretty damn good right now, Rachel." She still hadn't let go of her hands. She squeezed them again, then reluctantly let one go, and used the other to pull her down next to her again. She leaned into Rachel conspiratorially, and bumped her again, but stayed close to her shoulder to shoulder, joked with her. Making light of it, until she quit feeling so heady. It was nice, and unnerving that it was nice. She really must be craving human contact or something?

"Well, I'm not sure if that qualifies as hand holding or not Berry, but that is probably the most action I've seen since…well…awhile, let's just say. Hell, I might need to buy you dinner now, I'm not sure..."

She expected Rachel to laugh, or look shocked and blush. But she did neither. She just looked like she was turning something over in her mind. She shook herself, apparently shaking off whatever she had been processing.

Rachel flashed Quinn her most brilliant smile, she hoped anyway. "It worked!"

Quinn was glad to see her come back from wherever she was, and glad to see her smile. She smiled back. "Yes it did Rachel." She looked over at her again. They sat companionably, still shoulder to shoulder, lost in their own thoughts for another minute before Quinn spoke again. "You up for walking off some lunch and checking out the ducks?"

"Absolutely!"

"Then give a pregnant girl a hand up?"

Rachel's beamed.

"Where are my manners? I'll be kicked out of the Knights Who Say Ni for this!" She stood in front of the ex Queen of Mckinley High, pretending to genuflect. She looked up from her half bowed position at Quinn, winked, and offered her hand, earning her a hearty laugh. Quinn took her hand and Rachel pulled her to her feet as gracefully as she could. Neither one made a move to drop hands, as they wandered to the lake.

"Hm. You may indeed owe me dinner. Damn I'm easy, aren't?" Rachel glanced her and grinned, and swinging their hands between them.

"Yeah, Berry, you are. How **did** you ever end up on the bottom of the Glist?"

"Hey, at least I have good taste."

"We apparently have the **same** taste. Well at least sometimes."

"Oh shut it Fabray, let's see the ducks."

Quinn laughed and pulled her along.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish,

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone again for your comments. As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews!_

**A/N 2: **_Possible spoilers for finale here: So__ I've been away on a mini-vacation, and had lots of time to plot on the road when I wasn't driving that is! …And I know where I'm trying to go, but first I have to get through some way points. I just had to get this written to get the ball rolling again. So the finale was last Tuesday, and the next day I had a 12 hour drive to ponder how I should have started this AFTER the season finished, eek. Anyway, so it has taken me a bit to get down all the mental notes down (that I can remember because driving and writing would be even less intelligent than texting and driving). And of course figure out some new parameters I have to work with since finale. Yikes. Like..hello, where the hell was Rachel during birth, when everyone else was there. Everyone else is at hospital, and she sticks around to watch Jesse sing? WTF? However, saving grace I suppose is that now…Rachel and Quinn have pretty much a 'forever bond', what with her birth mom adopting Quinn's baby_

**A/N #3 / #4**_: __**3) **__I was heretofore embarrassingly unaware that Lima, Ohio does in fact exist. I just assumed it was fictional. Doh. I was looking up birds in Ohio in general (Yes, I have some Rachel Berry-ish traits of my own, sadly none of them involve a talent for singing...). So, yeah then I geeked out reading about Lima and it's history. __**4)**__ I now know more about Forster's Terns than I ever thought I would. I now have a 25 page .pdf regarding all kinds of birds that migrate/nest/are extinct in Ohio._

**A/N #5**_: I will never again write an author's note(s) that nearly take up a page. Pinkie Swear. And sorry for the semi-abrupt ending this chapter. I have World Cup soccer to watch also._

The midday spring sun felt glorious overhead. The breeze off the reservoir felt nice. These days Quinn often felt a little too worn. Yet another joy of pregnancy to add to the long list of other joys she thought sardonically. Squinting, she scanned the water in the distance. She could see the squadron of ducks not too far out. Raising their linked hands, she pointed them out.

"Looks like..." Quinn started.

"Ruddy Ducks" Rachel finished with her.

Quinn looked down at her companion, and chuckled affectionately. "And here I thought I was about to know something you didn't…but I guess I should quit being surprised at the level of geekdom you can arise, or sink to, Berry…"

Rachel shaded her eyes from the glare off the water. "Ruddy Duck, _Oxyura jamaicensis._ I just like saying it. Oxyura. It sounds so much more exotic than 'split tail' I think. And you know I'm a vegetarian...so it stands to reason I like animals don't you think?"

"Fair point on the animal love I suppose. I might have picked up on that point due to your er, interesting predilection for clothing adorned with animals. But…as for the name, well, what the hell would you expect _Oxyura jamaicensis_ to look like if you didn't know? Ruddy Duck is more…well, descriptive…and colorful…?"

Rachel looked up and grinned. "I suppose Ruddy Duck has some charm too."

"So did your dads get you into bird watching?"

"God no. Daddy was always busy getting the meals or munchies ready, and Dad was always helping set up the buffet, and keeping bugs out of everything around. Though Daddy did always ask me what I'd seen. There was this one girl, well woman, who would usually take me down the strand a bit and we'd look for herons. I love herons. They're so…elegant and…willowy or something..?"

"Or something?"

Suddenly strangely self-conscious, Rachel unlinked her hand from Quinn's. She dropped her head and looked at her feet.

"Tall. I'm so short and stunted! I wish I was more like…well, you. Tall. Elegant…all that."

Quinn was a little surprised the singer would admit to anything she envied about her. She wanted to be sensitive about it; Rachel Berry actually admitting to some sort of vulnerability. It was a first. However, when she uttered the word 'elegant', Quinn couldn't help letting out a derisive snort.

"Oh yeah…I'm all kinds of elegant these days. Waddling around like I am? I'm more like…a Wawa…or, in your parlance, I suppose that would be Canada Goose or whatever that is in Latin."

"_Branta canadensis._ "

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Of course, Rachel, _Branta canadensis."_

Rachel smiled a little shyly. "Quinn, you do NOT resemble a Canada Goose, I assure you. And I'm certain Noah.."

"Ah ah! No boys."

The brunette clamped her mouth shut and shrugged her apology, and they lapsed into companionable silence for a moment. Quinn put her hands to her lower back and pressed there. She was always sore there now. She turned to look down at the other girl.

"So I've gotta say here, what with the Latin you're throwing out all over the place, I fail to see how it is that you **don't** excel at Chemistry? The periodic table must have been a breeze for you."

Rachel screwed up her face, dramatically of course.

"Ugh. I have hated it. And finals coming up...ugh. But yes, you would be correct in your assumption that I had easily memorized the periodic table by the end of week one. But the equations, and the bonds, and… ick. oh, I **despise **them."

Quinn looked at her thoughtfully and looked at the water again. "Hm, it appeals to me somewhat. Chemical bonds, the laws of attraction and all that."

Rachel nodded. "I like the concept of it too, but for some reason none of it sticks in my head beyond vague theory. I wonder if I'm going about it…"

She was interrupted by Quinn's hand on her forearm."Crap! I forgot to text Santana about taking good notes for you, us I mean."

"Oh no, Quinn…" Rachel whined ever so slightly.

"Relax Berry, I'm sorry, I'll do it now. Class just started, it'll be fine. Where the hell is my phone? Crap, on the table. Of course…" Quinn continued grumbling and turned back towards their table.

Rachel stopped her. "No, wait, stay here. I'll get it. You don't need to exert yourself anymore than necessary. And I'll be much quicker…"

Quinn looked uncertain. It was one thing to let someone else toy with her ipod, but someone else being in possession of her phone was something she wasn't' sure she was comfortable with.

Rachel looked perplexed at her hesitation. Seeing that expression on her face made Quinn feel a little bad, and a little silly. Rachel wasn't most teens, that was clear. And just because in the past it wasn't beyond Quinns' moral inhibitions to, perhaps, have maybe snooped through someone else's phone, it didn't mean it was something Rachel would do. She sighed. The need for privacy was a pretty much a reflex anyway. What else did she have to hide from anyone at this point? Stupid of them to leave all their things there probably. But it wasn't like anyone else was about anyway.

"Alright then, knock yourself out, it's in my backpack, and...thanks" she said as nonchalantly as possible. Rachel smiled again, and practically skipped back the fifty yards or so to the table. She resisted the urge to watch her, instead deliberately turned back to the water to watch a small pod of mallards paddle about.

Rachel quickly found Quinn's phone. She wasn't a snoop. Well, she was a bit of a snoop, but she also had an extremely well-developed sense of integrity. While she would be lying if she said she wasn't exceedingly curious, especially at this very moment, it would never occur to her to actually trespass on someone's privacy that way.

It had taken her the length of the walk back to the table to work out that the odd look Quinn had let pass over her face when she offered to go get the phone. Clearly, Quinn was less than sure of Rachel's sense of honor. It hurt a little bit to have her think her capable of invading her privacy like that. But it buoyed her spirit a great deal that Quinn had gone ahead and trusted her anyway. So, instead of pulling the phone out of the backpack, she decided to bring the whole thing. She hoped that would reassure the other girl of her personal integrity.

She hurried back towards Quinn, who was standing stock still.

"Here you go, I didn't want to dig around in your things, so I just brought the whole…"

Quinn waved her free hand behind her frantically, not even turning her head, and whispered urgently.

"Sh…!"

Rachel immediately stopped moving, wondering what was wrong, puzzled. Quinn turned her head towards her now, holding her fingers to her lips, she beckoned slowly with her other hand.

"It's a pair of Forster's Terns…very early in the year for them. I mean they're not really rare or anything, but still…"

Rachel slowly joined the other girl, following the other girl's intent gaze. "Oh, I see them. They are so lively aren't they?"

Quinn nodded, still whispering, she reached for Rachel, putting her hand on her shoulder, using her to help her kneel down a little bit.

"I love Terns. I mean, I love seagulls too, ever since Jonathan Livingston Seagull and all, but Terns are just more compact and economical…?" Quinn jabbed her with an elbow lightly. "Hey, just like you Berry!"

Rachel cut her eyes, and tilted her head, trying to suss out whether she was being insulted or not. She decided she was being teased, and not outright insulted. Thinking it was something she could get used to from the other girl, she smiled.

"Well, at least you're not comparing me to a Brown-headed Nuthatch…?"

Quinn giggled. "Tempting...but just at the moment I shall refrain. However, I reserve the right to in the future." She pressed down on Rachel's shoulder and heaved herself up again, and turned toward the slight incline back to towards the table, taking her backpack from Rachel finally.

"Okay, that was cool. Or well, **I** think it was cool. Not that I am any longer an arbiter of cool or anything. Still, uh, hey so let's not tell anyone that I…am like, into birds, okay?"

Rachel raised one eyebrow speculatively before she answered.

"I'd rather have thought that the very act of hanging out with me, Rachel Berry, Gleek Freak, might actually outrank being an erstwhile bird-watcher in Lima's 'Idiot's Guide to Plummeting Down the Social Ladder'.

Quinn raised her own eyebrow back, and pulled her lip up in a rueful smile. "You may have a point, but I'm afraid nothing tops the 'get knocked up by reigning Man Whore.'"

Rachel tilted her head and shrugged, and smiled a little. "How about we just keep this our little secret then? I know **I** can ill afford to add to my already long list of socially unacceptable traits either."

Quinn smirked, and lowered her head conspiratorially, while she raised her right hand in a loose fist, lone pinkie finger extended.

"Pinkie Swear?"

"Uh, Pinkie what?"

"Pinkie Swear. You know, Pinkie Swear!" When Rachel still looked befuzzled she said the phrase with more force, like that would clear it right up. When that didn't work, she continued, shrugging. "It's sort of a...version of 'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas' Only among friends…or whatever."

Rachel smiled hugely at the blond's reference to friends, qualified statement though it was. She raised her own right pinkie.

"I think I've heard of that...Pinkie Swear it is then."

Rachel followed her lead as Quinn hooked their pinkies together.

Quinn looked down at her with an approving look on her face.

"I'm new to this. So... do we have to say some special words or oath or anything now?"

"Huh, well…sure? I Quinn Fabray, do hereby swear on my Pinkie that I will not reveal to anyone that…I…sorta dig bird-watching with Rachel Berry…?"

The shorter girl nodded thoughtfully in approval.

"I, Rachel Berry, do solemnly swear….that I will not reveal to anyone, upon pain of death, that Quinn Fabray…and well okay that I, **we** like bird-watching." She looked up at the blonde and grinned mischievously, and quickly rattled on. "Or that Quinn Fabray gets some serious man-sized hiccups."

Quinn canted her leg out, and placed her hand on her hip, exasperated, and gave the brunette the serious stink eye.

"Really Berry? Low blow! But Fine. So say we all…er well, so say us? So say we both?"

"So say we both."

"Right then. Hold this. Gotta text Santana before she zones out in Chem." She handed Rachel the backpack once she grabbed her phone out.

Four text messages. She sighed.

_Puck: _10:45 _"Yo Milf, where you at?"_

_Santana: _11: 40 _"Juno, WTF? Word on the street is I need to kick K's dumb as a box of rocks ass for u?"_

Santana: 11:50_ "Hello?"_

Mercedes: 11:55_ "Quinn, Santana is mad as hell. Brit is confused, what happened?"_

Rachel watched as Quinn scrolled through her texts, her hand pinching bridge of her nose, and noted she looked tired around her eyes again. She didn't want to appear to be prying, so she turned and looked at her own phone she'd retrieved when she brought Quinn's back. Just the lone text from her dad, letting her know he might be home late. She sighed.

Nothing from Jesse. Was he really that mad at her? He'd accused her of breaking his heart. She'd felt awful, and unthinking. She wasn't sure why she hadn't realized what she was doing was so hurtful to him. If it even was. She still had her doubts. Was he really just trying to get into her pants? She was never sure, even when he was being his most charming. She was feeling both nervous and apprehensive about seeing him in a few days when he got back from his extended Spring Break.

Quinn voice broke her train of thought.

"Santana says, in her own very special Santana way of course, that she'll take the notes. I'll get them to you. In the meantime…well, frankly, I have to pee like mad. I'm not sure what the public ones look like here…" She trailed off looking sheepish.

"Quinn, you are several months pregnant. I'd be surprised, from what my research has uncovered about pregnancy that you are not constantly in the bathroom. What shall we do? I can do reconnaissance on them for you, and if not acceptable, we will find you the nearest one possible."

"Uh, that sounds good. So, do I want to know why are you researching pregnancy…?" Her voice rose as she watched the smaller girl stride off with purpose towards the direction of the distant public facilities building.

Rachel's quick, efficient strides had carried her a good ways before she turned briefly with her admission.

"Well, actually, I wanted to know how your impending growth, and subsequent delivery would affect Glee practices and our scheduling additional practice sessions."

Quinn nodded her head once. "Ah, that sounds about right. Well, so far so good, right?"

Rachel shrugged, and turned back on course. She took several more steps away before she pivoted again, her short skirt fluttering as she turned on a dime.

"And, Quinn, I wanted to know if there were signs I should be aware of…if anything seemed abnormal…in case you know, you needed some help…or anything."

Touched, Quinn was a little glad the other girl was too far away to really see or hear her murmur under her breath to herself. "Of course you did…you dork." She shook her head, smiling slightly at the thought of Rachel 'cramming' on pregnancy. It was sweet. And typically weird.

She shielded her eyes from the bright sun, and in a louder voice, she responded loudly enough for the brunette to hear even as she reached the top of the small hill. "Thanks Berry! You're the only and bestest toilet scout that I have on board at the moment!"

Still smiling, she sighed, fingering the keys on her phone. She hadn't answered anyone but Santana yet. She didn't want to deal with Puck. She didn't mind answering Mercedes, but she knew she needed to word it carefully, as whatever she sent back would likely be common knowledge very quickly. Mercedes would tell Kurt, and well, that would do it. Kurt and Mercedes were living, breathing gossip conduits.

To Puck, she was brief. "Off campus. Back by Glee."

To Mercedes, she elaborated only slightly. "Getting fresh air. No worries. c u at Glee."

That would do it. She didn't really look forward to getting back to campus. She looked down at the shirt she was wearing, and groaned. And then there was that. She didn't really want to hurt Rachel's feelings (a new sensation in itself), but she **really** didn't want to go back to last period in her current ensemble. Maybe they could swing by Puck's house and acquire a new shirt.

Rachel reappeared over the slight rise, giving her a thumbs up sign. "Well the facilities are not what I would call pristine, but passable. I took the liberty of pre-papering all the toilet seats, as I cannot imagine that hovering is very feasible for you at this point in your pregnancy. I advise the last stall on the left, as it has a safety bar. I'll just wait here then, unless you need my assistance? I shall have to see about writing a letter to Parks and Recreation to inform them of this lapse, so that they can rectify the situation with all due haste."

Relieved, and grateful she wouldn't have to drive somewhere and hold it even longer, Quinn smiled and quickly started towards where Rachel was returning from, nodding to her as she approached.

"Thanks Rach, I think I got it. Not to mention, you've spent more than your fair share of time helping me out in public bathrooms today. But that was very gallant of you. Verily, to the privy I go."

Rachel dropped a quick curtsy, and winked at her. "As you wish."

Quinn laughed and said over her shoulder. "A Princess Bride fan too? Inconceivable."

Rachel laughed back. "But of course! What, would you would prefer I quote Hamlet and advise you "Get thee to a nunnery?"

"Uh, hello? Look at me, might as well! But yeah, I got that one covered, courtesy of mom and dad, but thanks…A nunnery doesn't sound particularly awful to me at the moment, I gotta tell you..." she trailed off sarcastically as she trundled up the small hill.

Rachel watched Quinn make her way carefully up the rise.

"And dash hearts and hopes everywhere? I hope not…" Rachel doubted the ex-Cheerio had heard her. Which was probably for the best.

Tbc.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish,

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone again for your comments. As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews!_

**A/N:**_I had a note, and now it's late, and I'm pooped, and I don't recall what it was. As I am a bit anal about that and corrections to the 20 mistakes I will find within half hour of putting it up live, I will likely recall it in the morning and put it in. Hm... wonder wtf it was? Oh, hang on, maybe something about wondering whether I'm making it look like Quinn hates Puck or something. I don't think she does (not that I think they belong together either, lol) Anyway, that is not really the case, she's just a bit frustrated with him. I think I wondered if I was making him look worse. I love Puck's character actually. _

_A/N I think my note was something to the effect of finally with this chapter I have an apology out of the way, but have given permission for Quinn to still be a smartass and sarcastic and bitchy, otherwise I think that would suck all the fun out of her, no? :) And sorry it's a bit choppy this time. I wanted to get it out as it is a BIG World Cup day today. And sorry to any of you in Spain who give a crap...but at least you have a chance to go through and probably will. Unlike France...who look like karma may have kicked them in the butt for beating out Ireland for a spot with Henry's handball. To those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about... uh, sorry, and it will all be over after July 11 :)  
_

* * *

Rachel gazed out at the water as she waited for Quinn to get back from the bathroom. She thought the ex-Cheerio moved at a pretty snappy pace for being several months pregnant, but it was still slow going. Her research on the topic had more than convinced her she was NOT interested in dealing with the same consequences that Quinn was dealing with now. She liked the idea of sex, sure, but not being pregnant at 16! She was more grateful than ever for her own dads just now. They weren't perfect by any means, but they'd always given her all the encouragement she needed, and provided her with a safe, nurturing environment, with very few strings attached. She felt perfectly free, and was expected, to go to them if she needed answers to questions.

She was certain that, like any parent, they would feel an initial disappointment if she was involved in the same collective predicament that Puck and Quinn found themselves in. But she was sure they would never have given her the treatment that Quinn herself had received from her own parents. Parents were supposed to love you no matter what, right? So what if her dads were gone a lot. With their careers, it was certainly to be expected. It left her more time to completely immerse herself in her singing, and practice. They let her explore her own boundaries, encouraged it even, because they trusted her. She couldn't imagine either of her dads snooping through her ipod for 'unacceptable' music. And Rachel was self-aware enough to know she was, well, a little much to handle sometimes. But her dads never tried to tamp down either her energy or her passion. They **had** learned it was sometimes best to stay out of way until her admittedly seismic piques of emotion subsided. They would usually leave a pint of Ben and Jerry's outside her door, and wait it out from a safe distance. They always let her come to them when she was ready to talk, and were full of answers if they knew them. Or a shoulder to cry on and hot chocolate if the didn't.

She sighed. Despite how wonderful her dads were, she couldn't help but wonder, as she always did, what her birth mother would think. Of her. She hoped she wasn't like Quinn's mom, wherever she was. She couldn't be.

"Phew! Talk about having to pee like a racehorse!"

Rachel shook her head and watched Quinn descended the shallow embankment to join her by the water.

"I'd rather not, thanks…"

"Dork. You know what I mean."

"Perhaps hanging out by large bodies of water is not the wisest of things right now then?"

"This is true. Shall we?"

The fell into step with each other, meandering the bank as long as they could before stopping and looking out across the water..

"Pee like a racehorse…nice, eh? What a weird phrase. So, Encyclopedia Berry, where does that phrase come from?"

"Are you testing me, or asking me in earnest? "

"Earnest actually. I wonder about these things. I just forget to look them up when I'm online."

Rachel raised her eyebrows at her, and opened her mouth to speak. And then snapped it shut. Quinn watched her face go flat, brown eyes staring ahead at the water, but really at nothing. Her brows furrowed a little, and her lips pressed together.

It happened in a matter of seconds only, but now Rachel just looked like she had turned 'off'. It was subtle, at least for Rachel Berry it was. And quiet. As Quinn turned it over in her mind, grinding it out til Quinn felt her stomach tighten, and a slight feeling of nervousness, and not the good kind flooded her. Her face and neck felt hot, as she thought about what information Rachel had to go by in regards to how Quinn spent her time on the internet; making fun of Rachel's videos, and leaving some diabolically nasty hurtful remarks.

Quinn cleared her throat, and glanced at her under the tendrils of her hair that were dancing in the breeze. She shifted her weight back and forth, from foot to foot.

"Rachel…I just wanted to say…"

Quinn lifted her head and looked up at the blue sky for inspiration. None was forth coming.

"I've never been good at apologizing. But, you, you deserve one."

Silence, but Rachel shifted now, and crossed her arms, looked down at her feet, then back out to the water, squinting, brows furrowed.

"I haven't ever been kind to you. In fact…somehow I always seem to have reserved the complete, worst, ass-side of myself for you."

Rachel took an audible breath. Uh oh, here it comes, Quinn thought. But still nothing from the normally preternaturally loquacious girl. But at least she wasn't storming off. So maybe she could get through this.

"Rachel. I'm really…I'm sorry. For everything." Quinn put her hands on her hips. And looked over at the girl's profile again. "Look. I took out a lot of things on you. You were an easy target. And I'm sorry. I guess in a way, I should be thanking you for something I've been blaming you for."

The stoic pose fell apart at that. Brown hair whipped around as dark eyes looked up at Quinn baffled and accusing at the same time. Quinn held up her hands, in mock surrender.

"Berry…Rachel, I'm not saying it equates with…well, the hell I rained down on you for the few years. It doesn't. But! You know, you **did** try to steal my boyfriend, Lolita. And I know that breaks the no boys rule, so I'll shut it down in a sec. But first…"

The brunette's eyes had looked skyward, as she weighed the charge. Sheepishly, she shrugged her shoulders in acknowledgment. "Go on…"

"I have to say…well…? If you hadn't channeled your inner skank…I wouldn't have felt threatened…" She watched Rachel warily, and continued. "Yes, yes, I said it. I felt threatened. What can I say? As Man Whore said…you are clearly one hot Jew…?"

Rachel ducked her head, smirked and tried to look reasonably self-effacing as opposed to pleased. She didn't exactly succeed. So she shrugged as Quinn continued.

"Yeah, well, as I was saying…if you hadn't channeled your inner skank to a level which even Santana might grudgingly approve… I wouldn't have joined Glee."

Quinn's voice had dropped in volume. Rachel had uncoiled a bit more and was watching her earnestly now.

"And, if I hadn't joined Glee, I would have been…well, all alone. For all of this." She gestured down. Out of habit, she had been rubbing her belly.

"And on top of that, I **like** Glee. I admit it. I like belonging to something again. And I like belonging to something special. Mr. Schue makes it special. You…all make it special."

Quinn risked another glance at the smaller girl. Her arms were still folded and her posture a little defensive, but she was less rigid, and she was biting her lower lip in concentration, looking out at the water, but clearly waiting to see what else Quinn had to say.

"And Rachel, I know I can't make up for all the malicious or manipulative things I've done. To you. To Finn. Or to anyone else. I can't…not really. But I can try."

Quinn sighed. This was hard. Really hard. She hoped she had grown strong enough, or would grow strong enough very soon, to not put herself in a position like this again. To stop conducting herself in a manner that would lead to having to feel **this** guilty, this sorry. Her life felt like it had become nothing but a series of unspoken apologies. She was learning she had to be accountable for her actions. She couldn't make up for everything she'd done to Finn because of the baby. She couldn't make up for years of torture of Rachel, and others not on the top of the social food chain. But she could try not to repeat her mistakes. And she didn't want to make any more false promises she couldn't keep. So she took a deep breath and continued.

"I can't promise I'm always going to be saccharin sweet to you, or anybody for that matter. That isn't me. Okay, it's more me than it is Santana, but…"

She raised her hands and faced the water again, and dropped her hands with a smack to her thighs in mute but expressive frustration. Turning back to Rachel, her voice was just barely above a whisper now.

"But I will promise you that I am working on being…a better person. I'm still looking for her, apparently. But I am trying to find her, I really am Rachel."

Another quick glance revealed that Rachel's eyes looked a little wet, and she was nodding, as if to herself. Relief flooded through Quinn, and her voice strengthened barely.

"So…I won't treat you any worse than I do anyone else from now on. That's about all I can promise. I'm still going to be a bitch sometimes. Sarcasm may be the lowest form of wit, but it's been my crutch for a long time. So, sorry in advance…? And you know what? I'm not sure this is all that great a deal for you anyway. I don't know if you've heard this, but I've made quite the nasty habit of crapping all over people around me. Especially people who might actually give a shit about me. People who might care about me…"

Rachel's eyes were shining now, and her lips were pulled in a tight smile, but she was nodding. Rachel finally turned to face her, to look her tormentor in the eye. Quinn faced up to the warm brown eyes that regarded her. She didn't see absolution there, but neither did she see accusation anymore.

Rachel smiled and nodded before speaking.

"That'll do Pig."

A nervous laugh but genuine laugh exploded from Quinn, and a weight Quinn had been carrying around for a long time, started to lift.

"Okay, more cool points if that is from Gilmore Girls, and not Babe."

Rachel smiled smugly "Gilmore Girls. Not that I'm chasing cool points, OR that I'm disparaging Babe. But if I was quoting Babe, I would have said "That'll do Pig…that'll do."

Quinn clapped her hands and laughed. Relief made her a bit giddy now. She held out her hand.

"Hi. Quinn Fabray. Ex-HBIC, ex-Captain of the Cheerios, ex-girlfriend of Finn Hudson, ex-one time Noah Puckerman Man Whore hookup, current baby-mama of aforementioned Man Whore, current happy Glee member. Current Work in Progress."

Rachel listened to Quinn's litany, eyes still clear and bright, then she took the proffered hand and shook it.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, ex-wannabe-skank, current Queen of the perfect storm off, current happy member of Glee."

Then Rachel smiled an enormous glowing, non-affected grin, and tugged the hand she held slightly and abruptly, and completely invaded Quinn's personal space. Quinn stood stunned as she felt arms wrapping around her. Or at least wrapped around to the best of Rachel's ability to wrap her arms around a very pregnant Quinn. It was a hug the blond was completely and utterly unprepared for.

Quinn found herself staring down the top of Rachel's head, crowned with rich and wavy hair, her own arms akimbo, feeling a tug in her belly that wasn't entirely unpleasant, and completely at a loss.

"Oh, uh okay, hugging. Uh, and we're hugging? Okay…okay then. Yeah, not a big hugger here. Really not so much with the hugging for me usually. Oookaaayyy."

She patted Rachel on the back awkwardly, and when the smaller girl failed to retreat and end the hug, Quinn looked up to the sky. Rolling her eyes, mouth twitching at the corners, she looked back down at the dark head, gave an exasperated huff, and put her arms around the smaller girl and returned her hug with a gentle firmness. She was once again getting a noseful of Rachel's enticing hair product aroma.

"Seriously Berry…?"

One hand that had been holding her suddenly released her and shot up, inches from her jaw. Quinn was startled, as one would be when almost taking a fist to the face while in the middle of an admittedly nice hug. She jerked her head back from where she had leaned a little closer while trying to the elusive hair product She looked at the fist, almost cross-eyed it was so close.

"What the HELL Rachel?" As she looked again, it wasn't really a fist, and now her pinkie was sticking up.

Understanding, but at the same time **not** really getting it, Quinn asked "Pinkie Swear?"

Rachel pulled back from the hug and smiled and shrugged. "I assumed you were about to add 'Quinn Fabray doesn't mind a good hug now and again' to the list of things I'm sworn not to reveal."

Quinn looked at her, arching her brow. "As a matter of fact no." She smiled. "I was going to tell you again that I really need to know what shampoo you use." When Rachel smiled even bigger, Quinn continued, looking a little apologetic.

"How**ever**…I would be lying if I said I didn't want to take you up on that particular Pinkie Swear at the moment."

Rachel shrugged, not surprised, still smiling. "Baby steps…"

Quinn's grin was lopsided. "Something like that. But, you need to understand, it's not personal. It's…well, it's a general thing. Hell, I've only been not completely opposed to hugging for…oh, 30 seconds, and frankly I'm not sure it wasn't an anomaly! So I don't know why every Tom, Dick, Kurt or Artie need to know that til **I** know it, ya know? Ever since my business has become common knowledge and fodder for gossip, I guess I find I really like my privacy."

Rachel nodded, and brightened again. "I can understand that."

"Okay, well understand this, and forgive me for this next thing…I have to pee again. Damnit"

"Like a racehorse? You're kidding."

"Like a really big effin racehorse. And yeah, I wish I were kidding. But the good news is that I think the possibly somewhat OCD Public Toilet Fairy has been by recently, and I am pretty sure that due to said Fairy's attention to detail there are still probably two pre-papered stalls left. If you're worried about that."

Rachel sighed. "Who me? Worry? Okay, if you're okay to go alone, I'll meet you back at the table. I have more ipod exploration to entertain me."

"Knock yourself out. Beware the Disney mix this time. You've been warned."

Quinn turned to head back where she had just come from not 20 minutes ago. It was frustrating and infuriating. She started her trek back, addressing Rachel as she trudged away.

"Back as soon as I can waddle my ass there and back. Argh. I may not be allowed to voice them per our ground rules today, but I can absolutely assure you I am thinking very nasty thoughts about Puckzilla, Puckasaurus or whatever the fuck Man Boy calling himself today. He did this to me and he can kiss my once perfect ass right about..Grrr. Peeing every 10 minutes…"

As Quinn's voice faded, Rachel turned one last time to the water, allowing herself a smile, she hugged herself. Turning for the picnic bench, she could hardly keep herself from skipping.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish.

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone again for your comments. As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews! They give me encouragement! I'm sorry it's been a while since update._

**A/N:**_Sorry about the wait. I've been watching World Cup soccer…like non-stop til yesterday. I think I've watched all but 2 and a half games of the first 32 games. And…the sound of vuvuzelas and the drama of soccer (Alas, US and England are out…), well, I have been exhausted. And I actually have a full time job. Though that has been uh, less than productive also since June 11. So…sorry!_

**A/N:**_I'm not terrifically happy with this chapter because it was written at two different points, and the style change is much more than I like. The first part…lol, I admit is a nod to my current soccer obsession that will run til July 11. But I sorta felt it fit because well, Quinn is ultra competitive. And it seemed odd to me that she would be in cheerleading, versus…say a sport where you get to knock people over…? I dunno. So I pondered how that would happen. And then I took a break…more games, a birthday to celebrate, and then I got back into more normal mode. So..forgive the first half of it. I'm generally given to stream of consciousness writing…so chalk it up to that, soccer, and being tired. And also, jeebus, if you haven't looked up Brandi Chastain, she has some photos of her with a soccerball. Daaaaammmn! Uh, or maybe don't look them up.(hey, I was just looking for info on the year of the famous tear the shirt off/sports bra incident... ANYway. __William Faulkner said about writing that 'You must murder you darlings'. I did not. I let my rogue first half of chapter live. Oh well. Moving on! Oh, if Quinn's sister has a name already, let me know. She does have a sister, doesn't she?_

* * *

Quinn trudged back to the bathroom for the second time in half an hour. This was ridiculous. Everything that irritated her about her life seemed like it stood out in stark bas relief at times like this. It was small things like this ridiculous, irritating constant need to pee. It called attention to the fact that she was pregnant. And that was not the kind of attention she wanted.

She supposed it was the Fabray-instilled sense decorum her parents had drilled into her. Never draw any attention to yourself of the negative variety. "Shining" at the right thing at the right time was what they wanted from her. Oh, and of course never be associated with anything beneath her. Or them. She'd certainly taken that to heart. Much good it had done her.

Quinn smiled to herself as she plopped ungracefully down onto the toilet with relief. She was amused and grateful for Rachel's gallant gesture of pre-covering all the toilet seats. It was a little ridiculous, but well, very Rachel. She looked at the notices on the back of the toilet. Public Service Announcements. Flyers for church social activities. Car wash Fundraisers. Faded sign ups for various activities; band camp, cheer leading, basketball, soccer. Finished, she hauled herself up and out.

She looked at her distorted image in the hazy mirror as she washed her hands in the bathroom, and snorted. Soccer. She'd almost forgotten she ever played, or wanted to play soccer. Just like Bridget. She wanted to always do what Bridget was doing. Damn Brandi Chastain and her damn sports bra incident! That was why she was a cheerleader. She didn't what really what it was all about, but one day her mom came home, Bridget in tow by the hand. They'd been to Bridget's soccer team World Cup ice cream party that some of the parents had put together. Quinn remembered how badly she had wanted to go, but her dad said it was just for Bridget's team, and she could go next year. Which, she realized now was total crock of shit, since World Cup only happened every four years anyway. Oblivious to that fact, and as mollified as a five year old could get, she had pouted and silently, as she sat in the living room, thumbing through National Geographic for kids, looking at frogs and birds. Her dad was watching something, probably golf. Her sister was in tears. Her mother had said things in her imperious voice. She heard Bridget crying. Phrases like "shameless", "low-class", "not our daughters," from her mother. Low rumblings from her father. And then it was over and Bridget went to her room and cried some more. And that was that. Bridget was enrolled in cheerleading, and Quinn no longer went to the pee wee soccer at the park, or saw her sister play on the weekends. Two years later, Quinn was enrolled in cheerleading camp also. Soccer went by the wayside. She'd missed her soccer playmates. One of them had even been Santana, she'd discovered years later.. Who if her scant memory served, had been a big ball hog anyway. Apparently the other parents had wanted her banned for her slide tackles.

Fucking Brandi Chastain.

Quinn snorted herself out of her memory. Never mind that _cheerleading_ led to her running around in ridiculously short skirts. And never mind where the popularity, and the class and the short skirts had gotten her. Oh yeah. Getting knocked up at 16 is the pinnacle of class. She turned on the water, and splashed cool water on her face.

She'd enjoyed what the cheerleading had brought her, and she'd never thought about how she'd gotten there. Not in awhile anyway. It had started in middle school, and it just became how she operated.

Some kids took the class clown root. Make fun of yourself before someone else does. Include them in the joke before they made you the joke. Or there was her modus operandi. Supply another easy target. She sighed. She'd done that so easily all her life. Before Rachel Berry, it had been that little kid Bertram. Before that, she couldn't recall.

That was a lie. She remembered them all. She remembered Evelyn, the pale redhead in 4th grade when they all started middle school. She remembered Kevin before that. He'd had to wear corrective shoes.

Her stomach was turning in knots now. She splashed more water on her face, and held her wrists under the running water to cool her down, and hopefully tamp down the sick to her stomach feeling. It hadn't been that almost pleasant sensation of the baby kicking, or punching or whatever she was doing. It was an acidic, nauseous feeling that came on with a vengeance. Ha, well, her actions over the years were making her sick right now.

She certainly knew she deserved some vengeance being visited upon her. She'd never been on the receiving end of the daily torture she had orchestrated or meted out personally. But now, now she knew what it felt like. In a way, she was reveling in the misery she was feeling. She knew she deserved it. She'd spent many a night asking thinking, praying, wondering to God why she was being punished for her one mistake. What a crock. One mistake. Sure. Sleeping with Puck, lying to Finn, all of that, she had conveniently rolled into her 'one mistake'. But there had been a lot of other mistakes along the way. Sleeping with Puck didn't make her a bad person. However, sleeping with Puck behind Finn's back made her, and Puck, bad people. Preying on someone else's weakness and eating up their misery like some sort of psychic Red Bull is what made her a bad person. She didn't want to be a bad person anymore. She just didn't know how to magically make that happen. Old habits can die hard. As she proved to herself and God just weeks ago, again, when she posted that stupid Glist. That had been so stupid and petty. What the hell was wrong with her?

She grabbed the sides of the porcelain sink, and looked at her warped image in the polished metal that passed for a mirror. She looked herself in the eye as best she could, her grip intensifying.

"Alright Q. First of all, you are NOT going to throw up, got it? Second. You ARE going to get yourself and your shit together, you are going to act like a human being. Or continue to. You are responsible for your own actions. You are going to get your head out of your ass, and quit being such freakin sheep. Okay then. You've made a good start. At least I think you have."

The nausea subsided almost instantly. She felt gratified and oddly accomplished, and even smiled, as she grabbed a paper towel and headed out the door, and lumbered down the hill as gracefully as possible.

Rachel was sitting again on the picnic table, facing the lake still. She was nodding her head along in time. She looked up to see Quinn, and jumped.

"I hope you don't mind, I used your ear buds. Or one of them. "

"I don't mind. "

"I assure you I keep a rigorous cleaning regimen, and everyday…"

"I'm sure you do Rach. It's fine. If they're gross, I know who to blame then…?"

"Yes…? So, you were gone awhile this time. Is everything…okay? "

"Yeah. Or it will be. A little stomach upset. I still get bouts of nausea. Any wonder tricks up your sleeve for that one? "

"Well, I've read that finding a certain spot on your wrist can help with vertigo and sea sickness…? But I don't know if it applies. "

"Hm, I'll try anything once. It's gone for now though, thankfully. "

She nodded her head towards the ipod. "Having fun? And why were you only wearing one earphone?"

Rachel looked down at the ipod. "Oh, well, my dads taught me to be careful alone in public places. You should never jog with both earphones in; anyone could sneak up on you! I hope you only wear one when you run, Quinn. "

Run. Running. It had been so long since she had been able to run. Well, physically run. She'd been running metaphorically for months now.

"Me? Run…not lately. I'm not sure all the neighbors would appreciate me knocking on their doors to use the facilities every 2 blocks. Though come to think of it, that might have been fun to do in my parents' neighborhood. You know, just to clue in all their neighbors that they raised a harlot…" Quinn smiled and winked at the other girl. But Rachel cocked her head, looking concerned.

"Quinn, you shouldn't joke about that. Your parents…well, it's not my place to say, but I can't believe they treated you like they have. "

Quinn shrugged. "I broke the rules. I stepped out of line. I'd like to say I was trying to make a statement. "She shook her head, and put her hands on her lower back, trying to stretch. "But, I wasn't. If I could take it all back, I would. Have it all not have happened."

Rachel nodded and looked down, then up again with inquisitive eyes. Quinn shivered. As dense as Rachel appeared to be sometimes, she knew the singer was anything but dense. She was the first one perceptive enough to realize it wasn't Finn's baby at all. She wanted to shy away from that gaze. She had learned to be a little wary of it.

"Really? The obvious reality of the emotional turmoil of having an unplanned pregnancy aside…would you like to go on as if nothing happened. Pretend your parents didn't have preconditions for showing you love and support?"

Quinn grimaced. There it was. She knew she'd been right to be wary. Rachel was just as good as she was at finding chinks in someone's armor when she wanted to. The difference, she didn't seem to do it out of malice. Quinn sighed.

"Rachel, you really just have absolutely _no_ filtering process, do you? Like none."

The brunette shrugged. "Say what you mean, mean what you say."

"We seriously need to work on that…voice of an angel or not, you're going to continue to get slushied, figuratively or otherwise for the rest of your life, you know that right?"

Rachel shrugged and raised her hands, as if she didn't care. "Well, the slings and arrows of misfortune do have a way of finding me. At least inside the walls of Mckinley."

"Rachel… look, I **_know_** you care you're a target. Don't try to pretend you don't. It sucks. I know. I mean, I knew that. But really, I really get it now. I do. But...you do know it's not by chance they find you. You do know that, right? I'm not saying it is fair or that you deserve it. I'm just saying trying to say…"

"I know perfectly well what you are saying Quinn. I think we covered enough ground on the topic of our past paradigm for the time being, don't you? I also know you're avoiding the question I posed. Which is fine. I just didn't want you to think I was oblivious to that fact. "

Quinn sighed for the hundredth time it seemed like, and let a low growl out in her annoyance. She took a deep breath. Turning a new leaf over or not, Quinn still thought the girl could be exceedingly and self-punitively annoying at times. Just now though she admitted that she was mostly irritated at the girl's lack of verbal filter, and she was annoyed at her damned perceptiveness. Especially when it was directed at her.

"Fine. I don't know? Yes? I sure as hell wish I'd never gotten drunk and slept with Puck if that's what you mean. Do I want the status quo of my life back….?" She realized she had been unconsciously rubbing her belly again. She looked up to find Rachel also focused on the hand that was making slow circular motions. She continued. "I'd like to give a qualified yes?" She looked at Rachel again a little ashamed. "Do I wish my life didn't have this enormous…I don't know interruption…eruption? Do I wish I hadn't been handed such glaring evidence that my parents really are apparently just…parental units? Do I wish I'd handled things differently? Absofuckinglutely."

Rachel looked up and cocked an eyebrow. "That wasn't very a very qualified…at least not as I understand the word."

"That's because you didn't let me finish Berry. Sheesh."

Rachel gestured with her hand and folded her arms. "Sorry, continue."

"I don't know. I guess Mr. Schue, well, I was talking to him. He…well. Let's just say that I don't know that I'm sorry about the Cheerios. He…he thinks.. I was..I was. Argh. Hell, Rachel I don't know. He seemed to think I could be better than I was before. I…don't even know what he means. He is so relentlessly…goody goody, happy, happy joy, joy all the damn time, and…and what the hell does he know? I don't know if his wife is a loon, or a good person, or..I don't know.! I don't what the hell keeps him so chipper all the damn time!"

Quinn was starting to pace agitatedly now. "I mean, what does he know about…"

Rachel cut in.

"Quinn…Quinn. You're really not making sense. But, well that's okay. I think we both know that Mr. Schue is a wonderful teacher and even though his dancing skills and choreographing skills are not what they should be., he…he is a good guy. And I don't know exactly what you guys were talking about, but…I think if he believes in you, it is a good thing. And that should be the take home lesson here."

Quinn started gesturing with both hands to her ever growing belly. "I don't know what it is he believes in me for! And all the believing in the world isn't going to make _this_ any easier, or make it go away."

Rachel sighed, and nodded. "You can't unring a bell, as they say."

"No shit, Berry, thanks for the sage advice there…"

"Not sage, just something my dad says occasionally. For sage advice I'd have to say...hm…Kierkegaard. '_Face the facts of being what you are, for that is what changes what you are_.'"

Quinn snorted. "This, Berry. _**This**_ is what I'm talking about. Kiekegaard? Really? That is the type of thing that will earn you many a slushie."

Rachel shrugged again resignedly, and raised her eyebrows. Quinn decided her shrugs were as varied as her many photo op smiles. But they were much more expressive.

"I just don't think I should hide that I'm smarter than...well, that I have an excellent vocabulary and that I'm reasonably well read. I don't think you should either. But fine. How about…There's no crying in baseball?" She saw Quinn look at her funny. "What? Yes, I saw that movie. It had Madonna in it!"

Quinn ran her hands through her hair, and smiled ruefully, tilting her head. "That I can digest. And thanks, I'll try to keep that in mind. No crying in baseball. Got it."

Yeah, that was helpful, Quinn thought. She glanced around looking for a way to end the inquiry. She looked at her phone to check the time. "It's half past one. We have a little more time. She nodded to the red ipod Rachel still had. "Did you find anything to your taste?"

Rachel didn't really want to let the topic drop, but she did anyway, and reluctantly allowed Quinn to redirect her attention. She smiled and nodded.

"I was looking through your 'Running' and 'Thinking' Playlist. They're not as different as I had thought they would be. I'm not familiar with some of the 'Thinking' artists, but I gave a few a listen. I am not very up to speed on lyrical or acoustic guitar songs. Though I think my dads have some old stuff around, it's almost all guys. Does Jose Feliciano singing Light My Fire count?"

Quinn giggled. "I don't know who that is, so I'm going to have to say no…? Is that like Ricky Martin or something?"

"Oh, no, they have Ricky Martin, believe you me. They like to break him out every once in awhile if they're not in the mood for Cher. So yeah, Jose Feliciano was not so much living La Vida Loca. I think he was blind, and would just play the guitar…? It was interesting version of the song I will say that."

"Well, I'll make you some CDs from those playlists if you want….?

"You would? That would be great Quinn, thanks. I…yeah, thanks!. It would be nice to have some guitar pieces to help train my ear for that instrument. I don't suppose any of them are classical guitar?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so, sorry."

"Oh, Patty Griffin, I heard a rendition of one of her songs on American Idol this season... I also think I remember her music being in that movie Elizabethtown. I love Moon River…"

"She is pretty good," Quinn agreed. "My cousins in Massachusetts got me in to her. She's from up that way. Not 'Running' kind music obviously. But she is great for a good pout…and...needless to say I've been listening to a lot of her lately." Quinn chuckled at herself, when Rachel looked at her with surprised eyes. "Yes, I've been being pretty self-indulgent lately, I'm aware. Anyway. I'll make sure I get her stuff on CD."

"Annie Di Franco?"

"Ani, like Onny, not Annie. Yeah, she is…interesting. She…doesn't mince words I would say."

"Well, that sounds appealing to me."

"Hm, well yeah, she is pretty verbose, like…well you. I'll get you some of her stuff too…I'm actually, learning to play her some. It's tough though."

"Really? Which ones?"

"Eh, I'm still working on it…, and well, I've ground to a halt right now. Clearly, I can't hold a damn guitar right now anyway."

"Ah, of course."

"Yeah, this pregnancy thing…there is a lot of fine print it turns out."

Rachel looked sad for her. Genuinely sad. Then she handed the ipod back to Quinn. "

"Well, what are **you** in the mood to listen to? We could…get you some Italian ice if you want? There's Rita's out at west end. My dads used to take me there. I confess…personally I find I'm rarely of the mind to have flavored ice as a 'treat'…since, well, high school has afforded me so many more opportunities to encounter flavored ice.

Quinn's stomach turned against her again, and she bit her lip, feeling another slight surge of nausea.

"Rachel shrugged another statement, as if to say; _It's okay. You can't unring a bell_.

"My favorite flavor used to be a lemon lime combination though. I remember enjoying it at one time. We could try that if that sounds appealing."

Quinn quirked a regretful half-smile. "No. I guess you wouldn't enjoy it so much now. And I certainly had my share of cherry flavor today. How about… just drive? I'd like to…er…stop by Puck's house though as well. " She held her hand out. "My turn. I'm pretty sure my elephantine body will provide more than ample counter-balance to hoist your ridiculously tiny body up."

"Quinn, stop putting yourself down. You are still the most gorgeous girl in school, don't worry And you sing pretty well too..."

Quinn rolled her eyes and shook her outstretched hand. "Whatever. Come on half-pint, let's roll…"

Rachel rolled her eyes at the nickname. Though it certainly was an improvement over Manhands, so she'd take it. She grabbed Quinn's backpack for her. She looked out at the sunlit lake and down the shoreline once more. Quinn turned her head to follow her gaze. Just ducks now.

Rachel sighed. "No herons today."

"No. I'm sorry. I like them too. Maybe…maybe we'll see them another time."

"Maybe." Rachel smiled brightly and took taller girls hand, and allowed her to pull her up. They headed to the car.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish,

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone again for your comments. As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews. The weather was nice, soccer starts up again tomorrow, and I have aunty duties (yes, I'm an aunt) this holiday weekend._

**A/N:**_ I know, two updates in one day. Finally got out of slump and have plans down the way for things I had not sorted yet. Yay! Enjoy, and thanks for all the comments, as everyone writing knows. They are like little word-inspiring Red Bulls for writers. I need to quit with that metaphor. I don't drink that stuff. Blech. How about 5 Hour Energy Drink for writers. Much healthier… Okay, I'm pooped now. Not beta-ed all errors are mine._

_A/N - made obligatory small corrections. Where did all my "" get stripped to? Also forgot to mention the name of one song. I think there is...Orbit (Medicine), a Pearl Jam song (Better Man), Augustana (Sunday Best), Modest Mouse... I think that is it. Sorry...but listening to music is what gets my creative juices flowing when I write. :)  
_

* * *

Rachel stowed the backpack, as Quinn eased herself into the car, plugging her ipod into the auxiliary plug.

Quinn sat for a moment, before turning to her passenger.

"You know…the LC Country Club has a beach too…"

"Quinn, we it's private, we can't go there…"

"Oh fine. But if I weren't pregnant we'd be going. As it is…I admit I may stealthy enough for requirements. So you're off the hook. Hm, How about heading out past the airport, we can loop back around to Puck's on the way back."

"Okay, that sounds acceptable." Rachel sounded relieved.

Relax, Rachel, we'll be back in time for Glee. It is…the best part of my day most days. I don't want to miss it either."

Rachel smiled, buckling her seat belt, she settled in.

"You pick this time."

"Feeling brave, Hm? Well… driving music? Angry music? Angry-ish driving music?

"I don't know, play what you would if I weren't here. Except, okay, no more Gaga just at the moment…?"

"Fair enough. Angry slash driving music it is then."

Rachel looked skeptical. "I'm not going to play Bodies or anything from my 'Disney' list…if you're good that is."

Rachel nodded emphatically, and looked out the window. Suddenly reminded just how bizarre this day had been so far.

"Here you go. If you don't like it tell me, and you can skip the song."

Quinn started the car up and put it in gear.

Orbit soon filled the car. Rachel waited to see if she would even recognize the song. She liked the beat. Quinn was keeping time on the steering wheel, and sang along when it the singer kicked in. Quinn looked Rachel who was watching her. Like she wasn't watched enough. Quinn looked at her and shrugged her question. "What? I can't sing along?"

_She's a car broken down out on the highway  
She's a good little girl but her daddy don't know  
I said my bed's just a moment away  
She stops herself  
She holds herself  
And she shakes her head…_

Rachel listened to the lyrics, occasionally stealing a glance at Quinn. She thought, well, I guess this qualifies as angry driving music. Ever the team player, she joined in on chorus once she learned it, and the Camry eased down Reservoir Road. Quinn rolled down her window and opened the sunroof, and let her left hand trail out the side so she could feel the air push and play with her fingers.

The last refrain, _Choke the medicine down _faded way, and blended into the familiar opening of a Kings of Leon song. Quinn looks over at Rachel, and chuckles that when she sees that the Broadway aficionado even recognizes the band. She assumes it is because their single had won them a Grammy just a few months before. She noticed Rachel lips mouthing the words, even if she doesn't sing them this time. Quinn assumes this is because she doesn't want to strain her voice. Especially on a Glee club day. Quinn watches her stick her hand out the window just behind the rear view mirror letting it rest in the slipstream there. Occasionally she would let her fingers play in the air outside that safe little pocket.

The trees flow by, lined on one side with oaks with leaves of bright new green, that haven't aged into the green they would be in July. Quinn was familiar with this road from the occasional social events the whole Fabray clan went to at the Lost Creek Country Club. She remembers being not to put her hand out the window or it would fall off. She glances at her left hand, and stretches her hand out from behind the rear view mirror where it had rested like Rachel's was now. She felt the bite of the much cooler air as it enveloped her fingers. She started making 'dolphin diving' waves with her hand, grinning to herself.

Rachel looks over at her because the movement catches her eye. Her eyes and eyebrows convey her question. Quinn laughs and half shouts "Bridget used to scare me out of doing this. She told me if I didn't keep my hand inside the car…

"...my hand would fall off."

"Your hand would fall off?" Rachel shouted her head and she burst into laughter.

Quinn laughed too, some tears forming at the corner of her eyes she was so tickled. She continued making waves and rolling dives with her hand in the wind. She was half surprised the Queen of Safety wasn't chastising her for having both hands on the wheel. The girl in question was getting more adventurous, turning and twisting her small hands in the wind as well. She shook her head at the idea that she called her Manhands. It really was a stupid name. Now…Softer Side of Sears…okay, that actually FIT the girl. I mean really, who even owns that much argyle. She looked over, feeling guilty for having 'old Quinn' thoughts. But they weren't as bad as they could have been, right? Quinn relaxed and enjoyed the air, and the music, and even the company. The sun flashed through the oaks onto the road, and it was a bit mesmerizing. It was only another 10 minutes out to where Reservoir Road would take them by the college campus, and they could hook around back towards the airport area, and Puck's house. She mentally sighed. She wasn't ready for the break from life to end.

So when an _Sunday Best_ randomly cued up next, another song even Rachel would likely know, she brought her hand in from the window, and used her other to push the stop button.

Rachel looked startled. "But, that's a good song. I mean, I know it anyway."

Quinn sighed, and handed tossed the ipod to Rachel.

"Yah, I know. It's just. Well."

"What?"

"Okay that song. Hm. You know how… hm. Okay. So sometimes I like to think in the car, you know? It's the only place that I'm guaranteed to be alone."

Rachel looked hurt when she said that.

"No, I don't mean now. I'm just saying sometimes I like to…drive. And, well, I can't imagine you don't think of your life as one big sound track, am I right?"

Rachel looked up at the ceiling of the car, then nodded, embarrassed.

"So I'm assuming you have lot of Babs running through your head and all. Don't rain on My Parade, yada yada yada, right?"

Again, Rachel nodded a bit sheepishly.

"Well, sometimes I just need a reminder of what…other people might be feeling. Yeah, don't faint. I know. Anyway, I have to cheat a bit on our motto for the day, and bring up. BRIEFLY, a boy. A big grabby handed boy we both know. This song…when I'm being driven absolutely friggin' crazy by Puck and his mom and whatever else. I listen to this song. I imagine him singing it. And as stupid as it sounds, and I know it does, it makes me want to act nicer towards him." She shrugged, helpless at making sense about it. "I know, maybe I shouldn't need a reminder. I know he wants to be in my life and be there for me and the baby. But. I just don't love him. Hell, I hardly know him. And I know a lot of things I wish I didn't, none of which make him ideal boyfriend/father material. Not really. And well, this song, you know I think it's about having someone you care for slip away or have their minds elsewhere or whatever…it just makes me think of things from his point of view. And so, I'm...less…mean? More present sometimes. Waaaay more present than I want to be I might add. Maybe? I don't know. It's silly."

"Wow Quinn. Not at all. It isn't one bit. Silly that is. Music is…primal. I mean, of course everyone knows that the sense of smell is the most primal or primordial sense in terms of evoking emotion or memory. But **I** just think as far as human activities go, music, and singing, it's always been about conveying feeling, or evoking a mood, even a trance in some instances. And jeez, Quinn, look who you are talking to here. I will say that part of me thinks rather than driving around in a car by yourself emoting with a song, maybe you should tell Puck… hang on. I'm sorry. I'll drop that. Let's just say I am totally on board with using music to soothe the…you…?

Quinn whacked her in the shoulder lightly. "Hey! You were going to say 'savage beast', weren't you, you jackass!" But she was laughing as she said it.

"I was not! "

"You were so!"

"Not!"

"Please, Berry. Fess up."

Rachel huffed, and giggling capitulated. "Well,… if the metaphor fits…?"

Quinn groaned. "You and your metaphors. I swear. Just find another song and move on, Berry, and I'll pretend I didn't hear that…"

Rachel giggled quietly and picked up the ipod and advanced the song, reading the title.

"Paper Thin Walls, Modest Mouse. Modest Mouse? "

"Berry, you have **got** to program more on your radio than NPR 91.5 Afternoon Classics or whatever it is. After the news goes off….tuuuurrrrnnnn the dial occasionally over to say…88.3 the college station…? I mean, I like classics too as you ferreted out today looking through Iphigenia, but you have got to broaden it up a bit. I mean, your idol Idina does contemporary stuff!

"...Iphi…genia?"

Quinn flushed a little.

"Oh. Yeah…" Quinn looked over at her, still embarrassed. "Don't make fun. Uh, yeah, Iphigenia is…well, my ipod. That's her name." Seeing Rachel's eyes widen, and her hand come to her mouth, Quinn became more forceful and defensive. "Listen, Berry, did I not _just_ say don't make fun? You're riding around in Towanda. You laugh at that all the way home if you want, I'll drop your skinny ass right here, just say the word…" Quinn arched her eyebrows, daring Rachel to make fun of her.

"Towanda. Towanda is your car? Uh, Towanda is lovely name." Rachel couldn't help but smirk just a little. Quinn poked her in the shoulder again.

"Yeeess….Iphigenia the Ipod, and and Towanda the Toyota. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Uh. Nope! No problem here! I'll just push play then, shall I?"

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea right about now."

Paper Thin Walls played as they approached the east side of the satellite campus for OSU. The song ended and another song Rachel would recognize came on. Startled again, and annoyed, Quinn growled and grabbed Iphigenia back.

Rachel looked at Quinn with confused eyes again.

"Same idea, different song."

Only it wasn't really. It was just a song she played when she was moping, or wallowing, at her life and how she was dealing with things. _She lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man. She dreams in color, she dreams in red. _She'd never been in love with Finn. The idea of him sure. The guy that would take care of her, and was a good guy. But not Finn really. And she sure as hell wasn't in love with Puck. It was just the type of song she used to punish herself. It just never produced any action, like prompting her to be nicer to Puck. Or Finn, if he would talk to her that is. It just made her feel shittier about herself. And truth be told, she felt guilty and ashamed enough sometimes to force herself to feel even worse. Self-flagellation through music. And listening to certain music usually did it.

Rachel glanced at her. When she didn't elaborate, she reached to push the forward button. "Okay then. Moving on."

Quinn reached for her hand to stop her, having a better idea about the music. She jumped when their hands touched, jerking back at she electrical shock. They both cursed. Quinn's burst out with "Fuck me that hurt! What the…you and your damn sweaters!" Rachel's outburst was much milder of course, and consisted of a simple "Ouch! What the hell?" Quinn noted with some amusement, sharp pain quickly forgotten, that apparently Rachel Berry didn't let any salty talk fly unless she was **really** shocked or scared…like earlier when Quinn had snuck up on her in the parking lot and scared the shit out of her. Quinn guffawed again at that thought, which was must have seemed odd to the Rachel considering the other girl couldn't follow her mental train of thought. "One. What were you grabbing for? And two, what the hell is so funny? That had to hurt you too…?"

Quinn took her eyes off the road again for a second to look at the other girl, her shoulders shaking slightly with mirth.

"Sorry Rachel, I was just going to suggest that we see if we can pick up the college station since we're so close. It's finicky near my house, but it should come in easy here. And two…I'm sorry but I was just thinking of earlier. Some of the…uh…more colorful language you used earlier showed a heretofore unnoticed command of vulgarity I did not know you stooped to. So I was just wondering what I have to do to get the really spicy words out of you again is all…" Quinn was smirking and still laughing under her breath. She half expected Rachel to pop her on the shoulder when she remembered the incident from earlier in the day. She hadn't been amused at the time, so she probably wasn't now either. But instead, Rachel was taken aback, her mouth dropped open, and then her neck and face colored.

Quinn looked at her, steering the car with her left hand now, curious as to what the problem was.

"Hello? What? So what if you apparently **do** know the big boy words…when…you…huh? Oh. Oh my." Quinn's eyes widened as she considered what Rachel might be talking about. "You mean... Oh my. Alrightie then. Uh, Yeah. Okay."

Quinn now looked horrified. Rachel looked even more horrified.

"Oh my god Rachel, you're talking…never mind. Forget I asked. Forget it. Forget it now." She practically squeaked the last part. "Jesse? Really? I didn't think you two…were really going to...? Oh god. Never mind. Forget it. Okay. Okay. Jesus Rachel. TMI!"

"Quinn, I didn't even say anything! And, well no, it's not what you think. Why did you even think that?"

"Well, why did you? I mean, you got all…blushy and stuff, what was I supposed to think? You don't get self-conscious that** I've** ever seen."

"I just…was shocked. Okay, fine. Look, before Jesse went all sweet and gentlemanly on me and said he'd wait and all that, well first he…he said something similar, okay? And of course, I think your statement was simply an unfortunate phrasing coincidence leading to what I can only assume was an unintended double entendre, and I believe I can confirm that, since you are nodding your head like a maniacal Quinn Fabray bobble-head doll that said double entendre was indeed accidental in nature. Okay then. Anyway, I feel fairly confident in saying Jesse's comment was **not** innocent."

"La la la la…Rachel we are sooo not talking about this."

Rachel smirked, now that she was over her blushing. "Oh I see how it is. Hey weren't you the one that wanted to compare how Finn and Puck kiss…"

Quinn stopped her 'la la la la la-ing long enough to let out a 'Pfft' sound. "No comparison. Finn can't kiss. And while Puck isn't bad, because I mean, come on, clearly the boy has practiced, right? Anyway, I'd still bet we're both better kissers than either of those guys are."

Rachel looked at her, and laughed, raising her eyebrows. "Well, I do have great breath control and all. I'd like to think I excel in that department."

Quinn laughed, a bit flustered again. She did think it had gotten awfully warm in the car all the sudden. "There is just no limit to your ego, is there Berry?"

"If you've got it, flaunt it?"

Quinn growled and rolled her eyes. Turning to her former nemesis, Quinn arched her eyebrow and locked eyes with her. "Uh huh. I suppose. Just be careful. Whatever, whoever you…uh do. Whatever. I'm just saying you know…because I'm a walking PSA for safe sex after all, right? And on that note, we have both sooo broken the no 'b' word rule. I reaffirm the moratorium as of now."

Quinn glanced again at Rachel to confirm. Her companion was watching the road with funny curving her on her lips. Quinn had to admit that in addition to the silky looking rich colored hair, and the generally indecently exposed legs, she also envied the singer's full lips. Damn her. She shook her head imperceptibly, and cleared her thoughts. She watched as Rachel nodded her head and crossed her arms, still smiling. "I second that."

Quinn growled again. "Good. And Rachel? Uh, no…more…f-bombs from you today. Please. I beg of you. I **really** don't need any images of you and diva boy in my head, please? I might hurl."

Rachel didn't look offended. She cocked her eyebrow and hit the button to change the input to radio, and turned the volume down a bit. "I never cease to be amazed how uptight you can be when it comes to…"

"Me? Are you kidding me? Uptight? Compared to you? Hey, I was going to take you to the country club lake so you could look for herons because you like them. But noooo, that would be breaking the rules. And** I'm** the one that is uptight?"

"Oh, is that why you wanted to go there? That was nice, Quinn." Rachel looked apologetic as she continued.

"But I digress. That is against the rules. Which while I applaud and appreciate your intent, I rather thought that a majorly pregnant teen and her…cohort would stand out and get caught instantly. And even MORE to the point is that there is no "rule' about not having sex. We are both 16, and therefore we are the age of consent. And there is nothing illegal about what you and Puck did. Stupid? Uh yeah. Illegal? No. And by the way, there **is** no age of consent for breaking on to private property. And I sure as hell didn't want to get caught in broad daylight!"

There were stopped at an intersection, otherwise Quinn wouldn't have been able to pull off her two hands on her hip glare and stare.

"I can't believe I'm going to ask this, but what the hell, right? Okay smarty pants, if you're so freakin' free-spirited and liberal, why haven't you and Jesse done the nasty? Hm?"

Rachel, who always got her dander up for a good debate on a technicality, be it semantics or otherwise, was prepared with her answer. However, it came out with much less vigor and sounded stupider out loud than it had sounded in her head.

"Because. Well. I would really like to be something more than just hormone driven, frenetic thing. I guess. I'd like… to be in love with…whoever I, you know…"

Quinn's natural flair for sarcasm appeared.

"Oh, please don't say 'give myself to'. You are, you're going to say that, aren't you." It was a statement.

Rachel folded her arms. "The light is green Quinn. And actually, I was **going** to say 'share myself with.' Which might be equally corny sounding to you. But well, I don't know how else to put it." Which was a lie. About what she had been going to say that is. Rachel had totally been going to say 'give myself to,' but she was glad she hadn't.

Quinn sighed, and pulled her car into one of the multitude of student parking lots. She quickly threw the car into park, and turned off the engine. Then turned off her attack mode, feeling a bit ashamed. She sighed and looked at Rachel's profile. She put her hand out, tentatively. She was afraid of both getting another nasty shock, or of Rachel rejecting the gesture. Both really. So she poked the arm quickly and firmly, earning a 'what the hell?' look from singer. But she quickly followed up by gently placing her hand on the argyle covered arm. "Sorry, I was just trying to avoid getting shocked, again." Understanding dawned on Rachel's face, and she relaxed some as Quinn continued.

"I am sorry. I don't know what got in to me. Forgive me? For giving you a hard time about…Jesse. Or sex. Or both. I was just lashing out. I just, well, I would like to be able to say I share your ideals. I did, I think sorta, at one point. But," Quinn looked down meaningfully at her stomach "that clearly didn't hold true enough at a crucial moment. I wish I'd had your confidence. If I had, I wouldn't even have felt fat. And even if I had, maybe I wouldn't have followed through. I don't know. I just…eh. Forgive me?"

Rachel smiled at her, and her eyes were full of compassion, and trademark earnestness. "Quinn, if I could, I'd give you a 'do over'. I think I'm good at giving second chances. And that's what I'd do. I'd give you a second chance for…well that."

Quinn smiled, and rolled her eyes, slamming her head back against the headrest. "I'd take you up on that, believe me."

Rachel smiled. Quinn cracked open an eye and looked at her. "You know, this reminds me a bit of driving around with my mom. We always seemed to sort things out in the car. I guess because my dad wasn't with us to interfere or something. She always was good at keeping secrets when I got older." She slapped her hand to her forehead, and said in a blond airhead imitation. Well, almost a Brittany imitation really.

"Silly me. I should have told my mom about being pregnant in the car."

Quinn's voice returned to normal. Or almost normal. It was almost a whisper now. "Sure would have been nice to have her say she'd give me a second chance if she could. Thanks, Rachel. Really."

Rachel just smiled. She was learning that not everything needed a comment. It was okay to just let a moment stand.

Quinn heaved a sigh, and turned the ignition, and put the car in gear.

"Now then…check the radio for 88.3, it should come in. That's what I was going to say earlier. To turn on the college radio, and maybe we'll both get to hear something we haven't heard today? Or that was my thought."

Rachel nodded and grinned. "I'm game."

Quinn grinned back, and took a deep breath."Let's get this freak show on the road, right? Off we go Towanda." She looked at Rachel and grinned. "And, well, if you want to know, it's Towanda California."

Rachel raised her eyebrows, looking incredulous. Towanda California? Quinn, you are an odd girl, I'm finding. But what is it for?"

"Toyota Camry. Towanda California the Toyota Camry. It's you know, alliteration, or well, sorta."

"Technically no it's not. It's anthropomorphizing I believe. But…I get it. Well partly anyway. So, why?"

"Towanda. It was in that movie Fried Green Tomatoes. And California? Because it is far far away from here. I didn't think Towanda Columbus, or Towanda Cleveland…had quite the same air of adventure somehow. Right?"

"Well I knew Towanda, but California was baffling me. But I like it. I'm just going to pretend that naming your car is normal. I mean, I know they have always named ships. I suppose cars are the modern equivalent, right? So okay then. Towanda California! Shall we?"

"We shall. Cuz…momma gots to pee. Again"

"Again?"

Quinn looked grim. "Again. We're 10 minutes from Pucks. Hang on, and think dry thoughts."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish,

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone again for your comments they mean a lot and keep me going! As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews. _

_**A/N**__: Sorry this one took so long again. I took a detour and started another sorta related fic. It's fun having two to work on. And even though they are related, the tone changes so it makes it challenging. No spoilers for either of them I don't really think. I've stated it's Quinn/Rachel, so…I'm assuming you already know that…? If not, you're not paying very good attention ;)  
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_Rachel took hold of the 'oh shit' handle, gripping tightly. Quinn clearly meant business at the moment. As soon as they cleared the campus, and its lower speed limit, they were cruising towards Puck's house. Well, currently Quinn's house as well. She glanced at the blond furtively. She was currently tapping the steering wheel, keeping impatient time with the song on the radio. Rachel had been mildly insulted at Quinn's implication that she didn't keep up with contemporary music. She thought she did a fine job. Though it was true she didn't know much of what was on college radio being sung by all male bands. If she couldn't sing the part and do it justice, she didn't really see the need to bother with it all that much. True, some of it was kind of fun to listen to, like some of this Modest Mouse Quinn had been playing. She thought singer's voice was, ungifted, at best, and grating at worst. But if she let go of that, it was not so bad once she got used to it. She allowed herself to bounce along with the current song, whatever it was. She didn't know who was Michael Franti and Spearhead was, but she bopped along with the reggae sounding song anyway.

As Quinn turned sharply into a residential neighborhood, Rachel scanned the area, and noted there certainly were more than enough pools for Noah to clean in the neighborhood come warmer weather.

Another sharp right, and another quick left and Quinn was practically screeching into the driveway, and Rachel was looking a little urpy. Quinn looked at her apologetically.

"Sorry about that…looks like Mama Puckerman isn't home, so that is at least a plus."

Rachel smiled weakly. "No, it's fine. I'm just going to get out and get a little fresh air, while you…go about your business."

Quinn shrugged her apology again, and extracted herself from the car as quickly as possible. . Rachel had just gotten out herself, when she saw Quinn halfway to the covered porch, turn around and groan.

"I need my backpack? Key is in there?"

I'll retrieve it for you.

The smaller girl scrambled to get the backpack, trotting quickly over.

Thanks Rach, I'll be right back. You're welcome to come in…? I was going to, uh grab fresh shirt…?

Rachel raised her eyebrow, and folded her arms. "Uh huh. I see. Thank you Quinn, but I'll believe I'll just stay here."

I'm sorry Rach, it's just…this is a little small for me…? And, look I'm sorry, I'll be right back, but I have **got** to go now.

Rachel just shook her head. She wasn't mad or hurt, just baffled as usual by the nuances of high school fashion. What made one shirt acceptable, or not. It all seemed a bit silly. She sighed, dismissing the conundrum. She dug out her cell phone, wondering why she hadn't heard from Jesse still. She debated sending him a text. But she thought it might come across as too moody. Sighing, she put her phone away. It wasn't that she wanted to hear from Jesse, as a person so much. She just figured that is what good boyfriends do, right? They check in.

Quinn unlocked the big door, and headed straight for the bathroom on the main floor. It wasn't a big house. It was big enough for Puck, his sister and his mother of course. But adding one more very pregnant, very irritable person to the mix was certainly straining. On everyone.

She eyed herself in the bathroom mirror. Missing, not for the first time, her own bathroom. Full of 'girl' things. **Her** girl things. Her hair and skin products and the lovely smells that they produced. Vanilla and mango scented candles. She sighed. It wasn't like this was awful, but it didn't feel like home, that was for sure. Mostly because despite Puck being outnumbered two to one by females, it still felt like a bit of a man-cave. She didn't know what the upstairs was like. Maybe that was the female 'sanctuary.' She sighed. It didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like she'd be comfortable here, even if all the accoutrement she was used to were here anyway.

Her backpack made a ding, and then a buzzing sound. Great. More texts. She reached in to her backpack, grabbing the red stained shirt and her phone.

She decided to start with Santana's text first.

_Seriously Q, WTF? _

_**I'm at Pucks. With Berry. She helped**__._

_I repeat. WTF?Did Manhands kidnap you? Has she gone mental? Have you?_

_**No. Change of clothes, back before Glee. Notes?**_

_Yeah, notes. You owe me. WTH is going on?_

_**Later.**_

_You WILL give details later…_

She almost giggled, envisioning Santana growling while texting. But then her stomach seized up a little, and she felt anxious suddenly. She moved on to answer Mercedes' text.

_Hey girl. All good?_

_**All good. Change of clothes, Berry with me. Back before Glee.**_

Kurt, surprisingly, was next. Though when she read it, it made more sense.

_Two words. Fels-Naptha. Pre-treating is key._

_**Duly noted, thanks.**_

Finally, she answered Puck.

_What up? Do we kick an ass or not?_

_**Stay out of trouble, Puck. I'll deal. **_

She glanced down, wondering who exactly 'we' was. She sent an additional text to Puck.

_**Tx.**_

_No prob. I look after family._

Quinn pondered that. It was true. Then yet another buzz.

_Hi. Rachel here. Everything okay? Do you need assistance?_

_**No Berry, I am not stuck on the toilet. come on in. Downstairs.**_

It seemed so very Rachel, Quinn thought. Quinn rolled her eyes and shook her head before answering. She took a deep breath, and almost smiled. It was interesting and, well, disconcerting to have everyone checking on her. She wasn't used to it. Santana and by default Brittany, sure, that was a given. Puck. Well, he was being all Mama Bear with her, which was odd and a bit suffocating, but at least it was better than him constantly trying to get into her pants. And there Kurt was being supportive in his own, unique way. And Mercedes was a friendship work in progress, but she liked the direction it was going.

As for Berry, well, this was all just plain odd no doubt about it. It might just be a one-off. It didn't mean she and Berry were suddenly going to be BFFs, and start having sleepovers. But, she felt kind of good about it too, a new beginning maybe.

She looked at her phone again. Almost two o'clock now. Quinn moved as quickly as she could around the various weights on the floor, and the weight bench that currently served as her shelf. Ah. The den she now called 'home.' She looked for a linen tunic to throw on, and made her way over to the chin up bar suspended in the bathroom door, and pulled down a light colored one off the hanger.

Quinn looked down and noted with relief that at least her most comfortable Capri trousers weren't marred by any cherry slushie stains. She didn't have the money to just replace things anymore.

She wrestled to remove the rather too tight fitting Aristocats shirt she'd borrowed from Rachel. She looked it, horrified, but amused also. What was this obsession Rachel had with animals and all things argyle?

Quinn found she was stuck and _still_ wrestling to get the silly munchkin-sized shirt over her head. She felt like the doctor in some sitcom that couldn't get their scrubs off over their heads. It was disconcerting to be so…stuck. Over her grunts, she heard tell-tale bouncy footsteps coming down the stairs. Great.

Rachel came down the stairs. Quinn couldn't see her because her because her arms were stuck halfway suspended over her head.

"Quinn…?"

"Mnnmfff."

Rachel looked around, taking in the slightly stale smell. She took in the weights, and the weight bench and the 'closet' in the bathroom, and her she felt a tightening in her chest. Poor Quinn. She turned back to the girl who seemed to be in a state of half-undress.

"Quinn, are you sure you don't need some assistance after all?"

"Mmmnnnfff! Dammit!"

The sounds that issued forth were more forceful this time. A slight feeling of panic at not being able to move had settled in. Quinn didn't get panic attacks or anything like them, but it was true that ever since a 'let's play monsters, Quinn you can be The Mummy' incident when she was five or six, she was susceptible to a heightened degree of anxiety when felt like she couldn't move. She sighed, and tried to relax.

"I'm not sure if that is a request for assistance, or an insult I can't decipher. Stop moving. If you'd like my help, stamp your foot once."

***Thump thump thump*** "Mmmfhhph" came the rapid and insistent reply.

"I'll take that as an emphatic plea for assistance. Anon, I come…"

"Anon I come? What the hell?" Or at least that is what Quinn wanted to say. It came out more like "Annonph I gggoomg? Hmmhnn thuh heghlph?"

Rachel took stock of the situation quickly then took several of her purposeful strides, saying "don't move." She put her hand on Quinn's shoulder, and flinched when she felt Quinn flinch.

"I'm here, hang on." She kept contact with Quinn's shoulder, to let her know she was there while she used her other hand to clear the couch. "Quinn, I'm just clearing the couch here, I think I need to stand on it to help you effectively. Hang in there, just a sec."

Quinn, for her part, was standing there, feeling _all_ kinds of ridiculous. She was mad. Mad at the brunette's ridiculously small shirt and her diminutiveness in general. It made her feel like a clumsy giant when she was around her now. She was mad she was stuck, and in about two seconds she was thinking she was going to go all Incredible Hulk, and just rip the damn shirt off. She wasn't sure she hadn't ripped it anyway. She felt Rachel squeeze her shoulder again. She relaxed a little. Finally!

"Okay…shuffle your feet. That's it two feet back…almost there." She felt the couch on the backs of her legs, and stopped moving. She heard a creak, as Rachel presumably crawled up on the couch. "Hang on, that is much better. Okay, grabbing the bottom, just relax." Quinn felt hands on either side of her. Small ghosting brushes of her hand against her midriff and her ribs. Goosebumps suddenly broke out. She could feel Rachel's soft warm breath against her bare skin as she bent over to pull the shirt up. More goosebumps. What the hell? She wanted to say and think it tickled. But that wasn't it precisely. She shivered, and then started to giggle. It was such a weird sensation. She was turning it over in her mind trying to figure it out when Rachel broke into her thoughts unceremoniously.

"Quinn, you're not helping. I'm sorry if it's ticklish, but I'm not doing it on purpose you know."

She then felt one of her arms grabbed gently, and bent a little. With that arm adjusted, she felt the hands go back to her midsection, and slowly lifted over her head. She smelled vanilla and that damn…Rachel smell again, she closed her eyes inhaling, just then the shirt popped off her head. She felt dazed.

"There!" Rachel beamed at no one, as she wasn't facing Quinn. In fact, she was doing her best to avoid looking at the girl. She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt awkward. It wasn't like they had never been partially or mostly undressed around each other. They'd had to do costume changes before, and that had never bothered her. Maybe because it was just the two of them. It was a conundrum. And one she thought perhaps she would ponder, once she got away from the expanse of pale skin in front of her, partially covered with tangled and mussed hair now. The pony tail she'd had it in was a wreck, Rachel noted. She also absently noticed that Quinn had a very nicely shaped back, and lovely skin. Even with goose bumps. The softly curling hair was caught in a thin necklace, some of it pressed and clinging to her neck, which was damp from the effort to extricate herself on her own. "You're hair is caught, let me…"

"Uh…okay." The shoulders twitched.

She reached, her hand stuttering halfway there. She reached for the thin rope, and pulled it gently back. She gathered the hair in a loose ponytail and pulled the tendrils free.

"There you go"

"…thanks?"

Quinn knew she was certainly not thrilled when _any_one saw her less than fully clothed these days, mostly because she felt like a behemoth. But this other odd shyness combined with that feeling, and well, it was making her inexplicably uncomfortable. How many times has she stripped down around Cheerios, or PE class. She shook her head, and blamed it on her pregnancy. She was flushing a little now, embarrassed and puzzled at her unfamiliar reaction to something normally so mundane. Well, nothing else in her life was mundane at the moment either.

The girl turned now, taking the offending shirt from Rachel's hand, using it to cover herself. She hoped subtly. She didn't really want Rachel to notice she was doing that. She was afraid the other girl would take it personally or something.

Rachel hopped off the couch, flustered.

"Hey, I'm just going to use the bathroom here if you don't mind?"

"Sure…sure, it's uh right there."

Quinn went about changing her bra and shirt as quickly as she could, not wanting to make a big deal of it, but certainly trying to have her clothes and her composure back in place before the brunette finished in the bathroom. What the hell is going on with her? Pregnancy was really messing with her hormones. If she were honest with herself, she wasn't entirely unaware of what the goosebumps were a signifier of. Especially since she wasn't particularly cold. In fact, just the opposite. She just didn't understand where the reaction had come from. And for the moment, she pushed it to the back of her mind.

The other girl called out now. "Hey Quinn, I'm starting to see why you were enjoying the smell of my shampoo…"

Quinn gulped. What exactly did that mean? What did she know exactly? "Uh what? You are?"

"Yeah, I mean there is clearly the lingering smell of…well, sweaty _boy_ down here. The weights, and all that. It just smells…well, like boy. You need some scented candles or…something down here"

Quinn swallowed, relieved somehow, and quirked a weary eyebrow. "Tell me about it," she called back, relieved at the direction of the conversation now. "I often wonder what it's like on the second floor. I think that is where his mom and sister hide away. But yeah, you're right, total testosterone zone down here."

Rachel emerged, looking fresh. She stopped and paused a moment before speaking. She gestured to the space and room in general. "That must be hard. This must all be hard. For you." She looked quietly out the half-window that was just barely above ground, taking in the view of the driveway, thinking it must be cold down here in the winter. "You know, if you ever need it, I could…you know, talk to my dads. We have room."

"Save it Berry…I don't _need_ anybody else…"

Rachel backed off quickly, raising her hands.

"Okay Quinn, I'm sorry. I just wanted to offer help."

Seeing the hurt look followed by recognition and resignation cross the singer's features, she relented. Normally, she would leave Rachel, or anyone, to think what they wanted to think, whether it was true or not. The fact was she just didn't want to be a burden on anyone else. She'd done enough of that. But for once, seeing Rachel's face, she thought if she was going to owe anything, an explanation was the least of it, and cheap to provide.

"No, I'm sorry I didn't really mean it like that. I just…I feel like I've owe so much to enough people as it is. I don't know if my increasingly fragile ego could take it right now. And no, it has nothing to do with you personally. I was forced out of my own house, and then out of Finn's house. My fault. At this point, I just don't want to add anyone else and their family to the list of people I owe. No offense. Really…okay, you are a special case, true. Because I've been so horrible to you. I know. So, maybe it just would feel like I owe you twice as much as I would anyone else. I don't know. But, at least with Puck…it's not so bad. Mentally I mean. I mean, he _is_ part of this, or partly to blame. So, me living here? I guess it makes it feel more like a fair exchange, since he was so…integral…to me needing to be here in the first place… does that make sense?

Rachel tilted her head, considering what she'd heard. She nodded slowly. "Yes, I think I can see where you are coming from. I think it's a bit silly. But, it's not my place to say is it? And I think Noah is a good guy. Misguided horndog sometimes, sure, but deep down he's a good guy. I think it's good you're allowing him…or well, him and his mother…to help shoulder his part of the responsibility. It's good you're not taking that away from him."

Quinn's phone announced another text. Quinn sighed, and picked it up, glad of a distraction. Rachel folded her arms. "I can go upstairs."

"No, it's fine. It's probably Puck again. I've gotten back to everyone already. We should think about heading back. I just need to go put some stain treatment on these things."

"Fels-naptha"

"Huh. That is what Kurt said! Good to know, hang on. Laundry is down here too, naturally."

Rachel nodded. She continued to look around. She noticed the two guitars in their stand in the corner, and wandered over. "Can I see his guitars do you think?"

"Uh..yeah, not the one with the black neck." The blond head poked out into the room again. "That's his. Mine is the other one."

Rachel absorbed that. "That's right, you said you were learning."

"Yeah, got that one at a pawn shop. You'd be amazed at what you can find in a pawn shop. Not that I ever thought I'd be in a pawn shop. But…I've done a lot of things this year I never thought I'd do."

Rachel leaned over and picked up the other guitar. It had a greenish tortoiseshell kind of hue to it. It wasn't exactly…pretty. But it was interesting. She held it, and strummed it. The notes sounded right to her ear. Not that she had any idea what she was doing, but she understood music in general and notes, and somehow she just knew it was tuned correctly.

Quinn returned, stood with folded arms in the open doorway to the laundry room, pausing to watch her. "Go ahead. You can mess around with it. I do. I've learned some things, but nothing great."

Rachel turned strangely bashful. "Oh, thanks, but I don't know what I'm doing."

Quinn's eyebrows shot up. "Rachel Berry admitting she doesn't know something about music. Will wonders never cease?"

"Hey, I told you I was going to learn, maybe this summer."

"Well, I'm beside myself with anticipation for your first troubadour serenade in Glee. You know, serenading all of us I mean."

"Okay, you're on. A serenade it will be. Once I learn."

Quinn smiled, and watched Rachel strum a few more made up chords experimentally. She was bent over, looking intent. Somehow she would not have thought of the small Broadway diva as someone who could carry off the woman and her guitar look. And while the outfit she wore didn't help, she actually still looked like she knew what she was doing, even if the strap was too long on her, and left the guitar slung a little too low.

Rachel looked over at her, smiling mischievously. "Gloria? Ginger? Gretchen?"

Quinn tilted her head, confused.

Rachel grinned with fun in her eyes. "Your guitar, does she not have a name too?"

Quinn laughed and nodded in understanding. "Nice try. She does indeed. Or she will when I decide on one, or she lets me know."

"She lets you know…? Uh huh. Will you tell me then?"

"Maybe."

Rachel looked a little pouty now, and she looked down and played a reasonably bluesy sounding chord.

"Aw come on."

"Nope."

The would-be-diva sagged her shoulders in exaggerated exasperation. "Fine…be that way." Quinn looked at her fondly and laughed at her typical, if feigned, petulance. Then she watched as she put the guitar back with all the reverence she would any musical instrument, despite its obvious battered appearance.

"You know, Quinn, we have a baby grand in the music room downstairs. If you ever want to…come over and play it, you are more than welcome to."

Quinn started to say something, but Rachel interrupted her."Let me finish?"

Quinn raised her eyebrows speculatively, then nodded.

"You'd have it to yourself. The room that is, if you want privacy. I mean, I'd love it if you showed me what you can do, and well, daddy loves it. But it has been more of a training tool, or necessity for me than, well, say an avocation. I know it would make him, and well, me happy if it got use from someone who really loves playing."

"I don't know if I'd call it love, Rachel."

"Well, be that as it may, I don't know what there is to think about really. It's a win/win I would think. But that's me. So in any case, consider it a standing offer."

Quinn nodded silently, and looked thoughtful, and took a deep breath.

"Thanks Rachel. I will."

Rachel beamed. Like really beamed. Then she pulled out her phone, as Quinn watched. A disappointed looked crossed her face again. "We had better well…face the music? Hadn't we?"

The taller girl sighed, and nodded, pushing herself away from the wall with what felt like enormous effort. "Let's head back then I guess."

Time to head back to school. She wasn't sure what she was going to do about Karofsky yet. She would consult Santana it. Her eyes narrowed when she thought about him

Rachel noticed the quick change in demeanor. She knew she fervently hoped she'd never be the reason for, or on the receiving end of the look that had just come over Quinn's face. Ever again. She knew that look.

Rachel's eyes went wide, and she spoke quietly. "Wow. Quinn Fucking Fabray just made a full on comeback didn't she?"

Quinn's eyes snapped to her, and then her features softened, and she laughed apologetically and shrugged. "Sorry Rach, it's a habit. That Quinn is still in here you know."

"Oh, I know." Rachel pressed her lips into a flat smile, and clasped her hands in front of her, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. It's not you I'm mad at. I really…really don't want you to be afraid of me. You've got nothing to fear from me, okay?"

Rachel looked a little better, but still a little wary.

Quinn sighed, and rolled her eyes up. Then she opened her arms, looking put upon, but still smiling.

"Come here. Let's hug it out."

Rachel wanted to pelt towards her and grab her in a bear hug. But she did not. Instead, Rachel grinned (looking relieved because she just couldn't hide it) and walked deliberately towards the ex-Cheerio. She stopped and looked up at the blond, who now had her own wary look, and smiled hugely. "Let's." Then she wrapped her arms around her, baby bump and all, enveloping her somehow. Quinn rested her chin on mahogany hair.

"I cannot believe I just said 'hug it out.'"

The taller girl smiled and breathed in deeply, while the smaller girl grinned into her shoulder.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **_Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish,_

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone again for your comments they mean a lot and keep me going! As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews. _

_**A/N **__Sorry and haven't had chunks of time to go at it like I thought I would. But World Cup is over. The culmination of four weeks, and in the end, the final was a dull, ugly affair. But the beer was good. And good job Spain. So, sorry this is a little shorter and choppy. It's been a looong week already, And it's only Tuesday. Ack. I have to work in the word persiflage somewhere in the future. I was noticing a medieval history show on TV, and I looked it up. And now I've been challenged to insert it somewhere. _

_So Quinn's river of denial has finally started to backup and overflow on her._

_Oh, and thanks again for reviewing. It's nice to know if anyone likes what you're doing! _

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Quinn locked the door behind them and made her way back to the car. Rachel actually walked ahead and was about to get the door for her, but she waved her off.

"Thanks Rachel, but I think I can get the door for myself. The day I can't…I'm guessing I don't need to be driving."

"Good point. You are the driver after all." Rachel went to her side of the car, waiting for Quinn to settle in. Once she had she hopped in the back seat and deadpanned. "Home James."

"Berry, I will leave your ass here if you don't get it up here in the front seat. Like, right now. "

There was giggling from the back seat, and the opening and slamming of doors, and then Rachel appeared in the front seat, and she was buckling herself in. "Fine, you're no fun."

Quinn turned and looked at her sidelong. "Yes. I am the Fun Police. That is me." It was a little bit true she thought to herself. And when the hell did that happen? She didn't have to look too far, in fact, just down at her own lap. "Hey, look where too much fun got me, eh?"

Quinn stared straight forward again, and could tell Rachel was staring at her. She bit on the inside of her lip, knowing the other girl was going to say something. She just wasn't sure what yet. She turned her head back. "What? I know you're sitting there wanting to say something or ask me something. I can practically hear the little gerbils turning the wheels in there…"

Dark eyes flitted to the left, then back again. "I just wondered. You know I never… Hm. Well. _Was_ it fun? I mean. _It?_"

Quinn growled a little, and put her head on the steering wheel, and bumped it there a few times. She sighed and looked up, and decided to go ahead and answer. "Yes. And no. For me anyway. It was, I don't know…maybe it was fun doing something 'against the rules?'"

"Ah. I can see how that would appeal to you. Okay, well, on a scale of one to ten…what would you..."

"Berry, enough with this. I'm _not_ going to sit here and quantify or qualify…_it_. It is what it is. Or was what it was. Whatever. You know what I mean!"

She looked out her side window, and looked back at the brunette, hard and intently. Rachel looked perplexed. "Let's just say I'm not in any hurry to repeat it." Abruptly, she turned on the car and put it park, leaving the brunette thinking she'd said all she was going to. But then she took a huge breath and let it out again, aware she was still being observed. "And one more thing. Going from what we talked about earlier, I'm going to give you my last two cents worth, and suggest you not be in any hurry either. You set your standards. Stick with them. I wish I had. Don't sell yourself short, and just give it up to anyone. Now. Can we please move on from that topic today for…well _ever_. Please, for the love of God?"

Without waiting for an answer, she threw the car into reverse, and strained to twist and put her hand on Rachel's headrest so she could check for traffic before backing out. As she did so, she made eye contact. Brown eyes, a bit too shiny, confronted her. She held them steadily, arching her eyebrow, until the other girl nodded.

Quinn smiled tersely. "Good then. Let's hit the road then. Now be a good co-pilot, and grab me some lip balm from the console, and hook us up with some music."

"Roger. I can do that!" Rachel felt like she'd poked the sleeping bear again, so she was more than happy to oblige anything Quinn wanted. She rooted around and found the SPF 30 lip balm. She looked at it a moment before she took the cap off and handed it to Quinn, who glanced over at her approvingly and took it gingerly. Meanwhile Rachel hooked up the ipod again, selecting the playlist Drive, as it seemed the safest.

She felt a nudge on her left arm, as Quinn handed back the lip balm. "You can use it if you need some. It's just Burt's Bees."

Rachel's natural response was on the tip of her tongue. It went something like "Thank you, but I have my own. Limiting the possible spread of viral and/or bacterial infections, and thus reducing the probable spurious use of antibiotics in a viral situation, and therefore slowing the inevitable development of the so-called Super Bug strain of antibiotic resistant bacteria is the responsibility of everyone." But, for some reason, instead, she said, 'Thanks so much, I love Burt's Bees brand." She took the proffered lip balm, and paused a moment, looking at it and the cap in her hand. She shrugged and put it to her lips.

The hesitation was not lost on Quinn, who found it amusing, and couldn't help teasing her. "You know, we've both already kissed the same guy who is most likely to have the _most_ communicable diseases on campus. And I had him tested…I think you're good. Unless you're just worried about old fashioned cooties…"

Rachel grinned self consciously. "You can never be too careful, right?"

Quinn pulled back onto the access road that would get them back to McKinley. "Right, Berry. So where were you earlier this year? I could have used your sage advice then…"

Rachel refrained from providing the obvious answer, which is to say she was busy avoiding her and her slushy bearing cohorts.

Too soon, were pulling into the McKinley High back parking lot, out of the way. It was quarter to three now, so they had a few more minutes to kill. She cut the engine, but left the battery on, so she would still be able to listen to music. She turned to Rachel and speaking in as neutral a tone as possible.

"So…we've got a bit of time to kill before Glee. I usually meet Santana in the courtyard right after 7th period. But we've got a bit. I'm just going to wait here. But if you need to do something, feel free…I'm just going to sit here until then. I mean, I'm just saying you can stay here too. It's up to you."

"If it's all the same to you, I've rather enjoyed your company today. I…yeah, I'll just stay here and wait with you, if it's all the same to you. I can leave a few minutes before you though so no one knows you hung out with me."

"Berry, its fine. Fuck 'em! Santana may have an aneurysm when she sees us, this is true, and I may not hear an end to it from her for awhile. But what else is new? And really, at this point, why would I give a rat's ass what the rest of McKinley high thinks of me?"

She really didn't want to overanalyze or even discuss it. Because honestly, she was feeling a little queasy about it all now. It had been a great escape. But now, they were back to reality. But she really didn't want to be two-faced about this whole thing. Even though a part of her would definitely love to instantly disassociate herself with the Queen of Argyle, she knew she'd feel guilty. She didn't want any more guilt in her life right now.

So, she lifted her chin and tried dig up some of the old Quinn Fabray, HBIC persona. At least the confident part of it. Not the actual BIC part of it. She inhaled, and lifted her chin even higher, back straight, like she had all the confidence in the world right then.

She then adjusted her seat so it was reclined a bit more. A catchy O.A.R. tune burst to life. She turned the volume down some, as it was a little too loud now that the car wasn't moving. Rachel took her cue and pushed her seat back a few notches as well, while she nodded and sang quietly along with the chorus. Quinn found herself considering the song in a different light suddenly.

_I took this girl out last night and we left around 12,  
We walked along lonely streets and got to know ourselves,  
I like to read - she likes to write,  
She likes to sleep - and I like to stay up all night...  
My friends say I'm crazy, and I agree  
But that's okay cause that's the way I like to be_

Quinn turned her head to look at Rachel. "You know these guys went to Ohio State? I mean, not here of course. Because that would be cool. And obviously nothing cool ever happens in Lima. Because, well, it _is_ Lima after all."

"Well I'll allow that is pretty catchy. I mean, not show choir worthy, but…it _is_ fun…"

Quinn glanced again over at her, and shook her head in mock exasperation.

"Rachel, you do know that just because it's not show choir worthy, or Broadway worthy, or…whatever, doesn't mean you can't like really like it. You like Lady Gaga, right?"

"Well, as far as pop goes, it's hard to deny that she must be doing something right. She has a…presence."

"Well, not everything is for dancing or performing. Some things are just…for having fun. For making you feel better. Or worse. Or making you feel better because you realize someone else has it worse…?"

The brunette nodded slowly.

"I suppose you could be right. Robert Browning said "'Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.'"

Quinn snickered, and shot back. "Well color me impressed. How about…'We're plastic, but we still have fun', Gaga."

Rachel grinned and picked up the gauntlet. "Of course…hm. 'Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.' Beethoven, of course."

Quinn rolled her eyes, tapping her steering wheel to 'Ray of Light' which was pounding out now, trying to come up a retort. "Booorrriiinnggg. How about something from _this_ century for a change? Okay. How about 'Music, Makes the People, Come Together.' Madonna."

"Okay, but that's a lyric, not a quote. How is that not cheating? And you and your double-entendre obsession…"

Quinn whacked her lightly on the arm. "Dork. And who said we couldn't use a lyric? And of course it is too a quote. If I'm QUOTING a lyric than, clearly it still is a quote. Goober. And, well anyway, even if that were not a fact, which it is, then I would still get to make the rules."

"How do you figure? I started it."

"Well be that as it may, I am finishing it. Plus. I'm pregnant. And it's my iPod, and my car. So…yeah. There you go." And she stuck her tongue out and made a raspberry sound. " So…to you I declare 'Music should be your escape.' Missy Elliot. Put that in your freak pipe and smoke it."

Rachel opened her mouth and good naturedly feigned being offended.

"Hmph. Gladly. Speaking of pipes, 'One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.' Bob Marley."

Quinn openly gaped, turning to look at her, eyebrows up to her hairline. "Seriously? Bob Marley? Wow, okay, I'm impressed. Where the hell did _you_ ever hear Bob Marley, much less know enough to quote him?"

The small singer sniffed and look put off. But then she gave up that pretense and looked a little embarrassed and sheepish. Quinn noted this and grinned thinking the other girl was cute when she was embarrassed. Then she furrowed her brows and shook her head to clear it.

"Well, so it was at a camp for the Performing and Fine Arts. Last summer. There was hackey sack involved."

Quinn did a double-take at the mention of hacky sack. It just didn't compute.

"You. You…YOU played hackey sack? Seriously?"

Rachel still looked embarrassed, and a little adorable as she nodded, looking almost as surprised as Quinn felt. And well, Quinn could not for the life of her envision Rachel Berry playing hackey sack. Nor, to be fair, at the beginning of the year, could she have envisioned herself thinking the diva was anything other than consistently and incredibly annoying. But, well here she was. Having a more than half decent time with her. Well, a very decent time with her actually. She shrugged her shoulders and that thought away. Then she looked back to the smaller girl, urging her to continue with her explanation. "Well? Spill it!"

The brunette sighed. "It was last summer. And, okay, I wouldn't say I was very good at it or anything. But I can make them now. Hackey sacks that is. And knit hats. Oh, and very colorful scarves? Do you need a scarf? I made daddy one. It was a little crooked…"

Quinn just blinked and missed what else the girl was saying. She was still trying to picture Rachel Berry, playing hackey sack, with 'No Woman No Cry' or 'Stir it Up' playing in the background. It was a little surreal.

"Berry, I think I've learned a lot about you in the last say four hours that I did not know before. And it's been interesting, that is for sure. But I gotta say…that that might just be the weirdest. I'm trying to imagine you standing around in circle of tie dyed teens, with possibly dubious personal cleanliness habits. Playing hackey sack. Accompanied by reggae. It is like…Bizarro World Rachel or something. I mean, who were these kids? I mean what were they at this camp for exactly?"

"Well, they were there for the Fine Arts part of things. Painting, and kiln-fired pots and the like. _I_ had wanted to go to a Performing Arts only camp, but my dads insisted that I go someplace with a more diversified approach. You know…two gay dads. All about diversity and all. So I was mad at first. But some of it was a lot of fun. And…well, I learned some…things. And while I think perhaps I was a bit too…driven a performer perhaps for the hackey sack group, well, at least they never threw any slushies at me. There was even this one girl, who…" She stopped and trailed off. Rachel shrugged, almost apologetically. Like it was shameful to find something outside of music interesting.

"Okay. This one girl who….what?"

"Oh, nothing. She just took me under her wing I guess? We're still pen pals. I suppose anyway. Does emailing count as pen pals? Anyway. Yeah."

Quinn was watching her thinking something was a bit odd. "Uh huh. And?"

"Uh, nothing. She just uh… she gave me some good advice on being a good vegetarian."

"So…, now I have to try to wrap my head around what? You, playing hackey sack, learning to knit Rastafarian caps, cook tofu and…what? Roll a doobie, all at summer camp? If so, my poor brain is going to explode. Anything else you want to add to that, just to you know, push me completely into Wonderland here?"

Quinn couldn't help but start to laugh a little now.

"Well, it wasn't like that. I just got situated…somehow at their end of the dorms. They didn't seem to mind me doing my voice scales as often as I feel I need to do them. Some of the other performers in my discipline seemed to lack appreciation for my level of dedication. I mean most of them were fine, but there were some in our production final of Rent who didn't think I should be Maureen, and well…"

Quinn stopped her laughing, but she couldn't quite banish the small smile she still sported. It was so typical of Rachel. So insecure when she should just relax. She found herself feeling sympathy for the uber-passionate singer. "Ah. Poor Rachel, so misunderstood wherever she goes."

Rachel quirked her mouth to the side, looking a little glum and pouty, but obviously appreciating the sympathy. Quinn reached over tapped her on the nose once, softly. "Aw, sweetie, don't worry. You know they were probably just jealous of your talents. I'm assuming you were the best female lead there. I mean, you know how long it took the rest of us in Glee to…well, warm up to you, and your little Napoleonic ways. Well, I mean, not everyone is like 100% warmed up to you. But, I mean, we all recognize your talent, independent of your personality. And some of us, well really, like you? Most of the time that is…"

Rachel had unbowed her head from her pouting stance, and looked at her, her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to say something. But shut it with a snap. She just grinned, and practically glowed from ear to ear.

Quinn smiled back. It was just too infectious a smile not to. And then her she felt her own eyes widen. She had just called Rachel Berry 'Sweetie'. Oh dear. Well, it wasn't like she had never used that word with friends. Not Santana of course. With Santana, affection for one another was generally expressed with a variety of insults. Juno, Heifer, Slut. Biotch. But not 'sweetie.' Quinn felt her neck turning red.

"You know, you just called me 'sweetie'…"

"I_ know_ Berry. Shut it! Clearly, I am losing it. And I'm not sure I should be allowed to be operating heavy machinery if that came out of my mouth." Quinn snapped it out, but it didn't have a lot of bite to it, and it was obvious. Rachel just nodded, and quickly shut her mouth, and made acquiescent sounds. But she could barely suppress the mirth there.

Quinn looked up at the ceiling of the car and shook her head. This had been one damn weird upside down day in her life so far.

She looked again, taking in the half closed, downcast eyes with long dark lashes, and the expressive mouth trying to hold in her grin. Something fluttery and tidal feeling in her chest feel like it needed to burst out right now. With that feeling came a desperate urge to reach and grab the girl's hand, to touch it. Like it would calm her and be a salve somehow over this bright, hot and shiny feeling that was bubbling from her gut.

Flushed, and feeling overheated, Quinn brought her hands to her temple and rubbed there and pinched the bridge of her nose. At least it gave her hands something else to do besides compulsively reach for Rachel hand. What the _fuck_ is going on here? Then came a sudden compulsive (and more sensible, Quinn thought) need to get out of the car, and away from the other girl. Proximity to her was what was making everything bright and hot and confused. Too much was going on for her to stay.

"Berry, I've gotta go. Now. Uh. I will talk to you, in a bit" she blurted

Rachel's looked up and was serious with concern now. "Are you alright Quinn? What is it? Are you sick, like from the baby kind of sick?" She reached and gently put her hand on her forearm, wanting to calm and soothe her. Quinn looked down at that small hand, feeling her pulse jump at the contact, and the visual image of it loomed. Pinpricks bloomed on the back of her scalp. She pulled away as gently, but as swiftly as she could, grabbing her cell phone as she started to extricate herself, gracelessly in every sense, from the car.

"I. Yeah, I need to go to the bathroom. Yeah. Bathroom. Uh, Lock the door and get my iPod when you leave. Meet Santana, I'll text her. okaybyenow. Glee, see you there."

And she was gone, making very quick time to the back entrance to the language section of the building, leaving Rachel to watch her go, too stunned to do anything but stare with her mouth slightly open. Rachel just sat there for a moment, completely nonplussed.

Quinn couldn't get away from there fast enough. The completely baffled and extremely concerned look on Rachel's face had mirrored Quinn's state of mind. She felt twisted sense of satisfaction at that for some reason. _I know I'm baffled and completely confused too. So I'm glad someone else is too. So_ w_hat in the hell is going on with me? _


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel _  
**Spoilers: **_Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish,_

_**A/N **__Sorry for long note. Sorry for the even more ridiculously long break. Real life can be a bitch sometimes. My already smallish company I work for got smaller by a few more. Damn economy. So! I have been scrambling to find work, which took up most of my brainwaves the last month. Landing on my feet though, phew. Had to be in actual real offices a lot lately. I think they frown on the writing and reading of fanfiction at work. Just a guess. And my host when I stay out of town? Her neighbors were unkind enough to have THOUGHTLESSLY relocated their wireless router to another room, so crappy connection when out of town. So kiddies, even if I didn't work with for internet/security company, I'd still say: secure your wireless routers! There are harmless people like me, and others who are not so harmless who will shameless steal your bandwidth ;) Oh, for the record, at home I do pay for my own wireless(locked!). But I scavenge shamelessly when I travel. *gets off security lecture soap box* On with the short chapter._

_Everyone who has reviewed: Thanks for any feedback I get, it makes HUGE difference! I will try to be much better from now on…but I had to get the ball rolling so this is sorta a 'get my head back in the story' chapter for me too! Sorry Quinn is MIA for this one. _

_Oh, and I really struggle with Brittany and Santana. I *really*love them, but I am neither as brilliantly and intimidating and quippy as Santana, nor as…airy(?) and nebulous as Brittany. I think the writers are brilliant with her and what they come up with for what comes out of her mouth. I can't wait to see the episode they say is gonna be all about her. Maybe then I'll have a better grip. Okay, moving along now._

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Rachel sat, completely frozen for half a minute. Well, her eyebrows alternated between furrowing in consternation and arching in surprise. Anyone watching her might have thought she was doing some actor's exercise to loosen her facial muscles. Which of course, Rachel might very well have been doing. Except that she was sitting in hastily abandoned car that didn't even belong to her, instead of in her own bedroom. Or perhaps in the choir room all by herself. So perhaps she just looked a bit crazy.

She gave her self a good shake mentally, and stopped her facial contortions, so she could concentrate on figuring out just what the hell was that all about? Was Quinn having some morning sickness type symptoms again? One minute they're having a nice, dare she say friendly, conversation. Bonding she'd thought, with the hope that dare not speak its name. And then, before she knew it, Quinn had bolted. There was no other word for it. Apparently she had only just realized she had just ditched school and hung out for the afternoon with Rachel Berry, Social Pariah Extraordinaire. What else was she really expecting?

She looked down at the ipod in her hands, inhaling dramatically. Which made total sense of course in the grand scheme of their rocky history. But they had, she thought anyway, a pretty good time today. In fact she was pretty sure Quinn would have said the same thing. Well, not out loud of course. But she didn't think she needed her trusty sixth sense to tell her they'd been getting on really well. Like stunningly well. Apparently it was of the 'too good to be true' variety of well. She sighed heavily, and looked forlornly down at the ipod one more time.

Santana was fidgety, oozing her annoyance as she waited in the courtyard between buildings for, of all people, Rachel Friggin' Berry to show up. She couldn't decide whether it was more demeaning, and therefore more punishable, to be kept waiting by the diva, or to have to go looking for her. The exiting students gave her a wide berth, except for Brittany of course, who flounced up to her as cheerful as ever.

"Uh oh, did someone put your panties in a twist? Besides me of course?" The tall wide-eyed Cheerio tossed her blond ponytail flirtatiously at her grim-faced companion. Noticing her teasing had no effect on the other girl, she tilted her head and looked at once apologetic and impossibly sweet. "Oh no, did I mess up your exam because I distracted you during study time again?"

Santana's face softened for the briefest of seconds, and she fought unsuccessfully against letting her mouth quirk in a jaunty smile. "No B, it's nothing you did, I promise. Plus, I aced hell out of that exam, please!"

The blond's face cleared instantly. "Then who turned your smile upside down?"

Santana promptly re-assumed her imitation of a caged tiger.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this…" she looked at Brittany again and shook her head, "but I'm sitting here waiting for Berry, of all the fucking people, to meet me here. Yeah. You heard me. Berry. God knows where Q is, but she texted me, and made me her friggin' errand girl. Do I have 'Quinn's Errand Bitch' tattooed on my forehead? No. No I do not!"

The blond ponytail bobbed sympathetically. "I know how many tattoos you have, so I don't think so."

Santana paused as she parsed the Brittany Speak. She heaved a sigh, and continued.

"And now? Now I'm standing here. Waiting for Berry to show up and *some*body needs to explain to me what the hell is going on in this school. It is like the fucking End Days here! I'm having to threaten to kick Karofsky's ass for giving a slushy facial to a Cheerio B! A Cheerio! Okay, ex-Cheerio. But still. That does NOT happen. And way crossing the line. And? On top of that? I'm getting mysterious texts from Q, who has apparently been playing at Bizzaro World Ferris Bueller. Running all around Lima with none other than our own Barbra Streisand wannabe, Rachel Berry. And did I *mention* Berry has kept me _waiting? _Ay Dios Mio! Where did it all go wrong?"

Brittany patted the overwrought and agitated Latina on the shoulder and smiled sweetly, as she usually did when Santana started using Spanish. She knew the other girl was being far more dramatic than she cared to let herself be, so she must be genuinely upset. Brittany was well aware that the 'fiery' girl actually prided herself on her level-headed, cool, detached attitude. Sure, she liked the respect and reactions she could provoke with her Alpha Bitch attitude. It kept people in line. But the 'simple' blond knew that even while she stoked the impression she could fly off the handle at any moment, she actually preferred to be completely in control. Except occasionally.

The blond smiled to herself as she pictured some of those less than dominant situations she had witnessed Santana in. A growl from Santana brought her out of her reverie. She now had her hands on her hips, was tapping a foot and fixing her with supposedly intimidating glare. Brittany tried to fight down a small smirk of pleasure at her thoughts, and focused on the situation at hand.

"WHAT are you smiling about? There is no smiling at this! No smiling! This is dire!"

"Aw, S, it'll be okay. It's not like Rachel has kidnapped Q, and is holding her against her will on a four-poster Edwardian bed, handcuffed to a bed, whipping her with a silk…"

The darker girl's eyes widened. She whispered desperately and fiercely "B! Shut it! They are NOT… just...they are not. Edwardian bed? Is that what we- No. Never mind. I need to focus! Now, I need-."

Brittany tittered at her, giggling still. "It'll be fine S. We will see her at glee. She said so, see?" She held up her phone to the other girl's view, so she could see a brief text from Quinn. "See? She'll see ME at glee, and you'll be at glee, so therefore she will see YOU at glee too."

Santana rolled her eyes at the sage head-nodding from the blond. Still irritated, she picked up her backpack.

"Damn straight she'll see me. And screw this! I'm not waiting anymore. Wait here, B, I'm gonna track down our runtastic diva, and sort this shit out. If she shows up here, keep her here. If you see Q, keep HER here."

She huffed loudly in annoyance. She tilted her head to the left, and then to the right as she popped her neck. She squared her shoulders, raised an eyebrow towards blond who was still struggling to keep a smile off her face. Then she strutted towards the parking lot with purpose.

Brittany watched her dramatic exit with appreciation, shaking her head and smiling, before looking around for either of the people she was assigned to detain if they showed up.


End file.
